THE  LIBRARY 


[HE  UNIVERSITY 


OF  CALIFORNIA 


LOS  ANGELES 


GIFT  OF 


COMMODORE  BYRON  MCCANDLESS 


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IN  THE  DAYS  OF  THE  GEORGES 


.-V* 

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Sophia  Dorothea 

Wife  of  George  I 


IN  THE   DAYS  OF 
THE    GEORGES 


BV 

WILLIAM    B.   BOULTON 

AUTHOR  OF  "THE  AMUSEMENTS  OF  OLD  LONDON,"  "SIR  JOSHUA 
REYNOLDS,"  "  THOMAS  GAINSBOROUGH,"  ETC.,  ETC. 

JOINT  AUTHOR  OF 
"  MEMORIALS  OF  THE  ROYAL  YACHT  SQUADRON  " 


NEW  YORK 
JAMES   POTT   AND   COMPANY 

1910 


RICHARD  CLAY  &  SONS,  LIMITED, 

BREAD  STREET  HILL,  E.C.,  AND 

DUNGAY,  SUFFOLK. 


PA 


TO 

CECILIA  H.    CROKER   FOX 


The  author  is  much  indebted  to  Messrs. 
Smith,  Elder  &  Co.  and  to  Messrs.  Macmillan 
for  their  courteous  permission  to  print  two  of 
the  following  sketches,  '  A  Royal  Romance,' 
and  '  The  Complete  Gamester,'  which  appeared 
in  The  Cornhill  Magazine  and  Temple  Bar 
respectively. 


CONTENTS 

PAGE 

I.  A  ROYAL  FEUD  AND  ITS  VICTIM        ...        9 

II.  THE  ELUSIVE  QUAKERESS          ....      85 

III.  A  ROYAL  ROMANCE »     139 

IV.  A  MAID  OF  HONOUR 163 

V.  THE  COMPLETE  GAMESTER         .        .        .        .227 

VI.    THE  INCOMPARABLE  BRUMMELL         .        .  251 


LIST   OF   ILLUSTRATIONS 

To  face  page 

SOPHIA  DOROTHEA        ....        Frontispiece 
FREDERICK,  PRINCE  OF  WALES    .        .        .        .        •      42 
QUEEN  CAROLINE  AS  PRINCESS  OF  WALES  ...       70 

MRS.  AXFORD 102 

From  a  painting  by  Sir  Joshua  Reynolds.     (By  permission  of 
Henry  Graves  &°  Co.) 

GEORGE  III 130 

LADY  SARAH  LENNOX  WITH  LADY  SUSAN  STRANGWAYS 

AND  CHARLES  JAMES  Fox          .        .         .        .150 
From  a  painting  by  Sir  Joshua  Reynolds.     (By  permission  of 
Henry  Graves  5s3  Co.) 

ELIZABETH  CHUDLEIGH,  COUNTESS  OF  BRISTOL    .        -174 

CAPTAIN  AUGUSTUS  JOHN  HERVEY,   THIRD   EARL  OF 

BRISTOL 206 

"FARO" 242 

From  the  drawing  by  T.  Rowlandson. 

GEORGE  BRYAN  BRUMMELL 262 

GEORGE,  PRINCE  OF  WALES         .        .        .        .        .     288 

From  a  painting  by  Cosway. 


I 

A    ROYAL   FEUD   AND   ITS   VICTIM 


A  ROYAL  FEUD  AND  ITS  VICTIM 

IT  is  a  hard  fate,  surely,  whatever  the  balance 
of  good  and  evil  in  a  man's  character,  that  his 
reputation  should  depend  upon  the  reports  of  his 
enemies;  harder  than  ordinary,  perhaps,  when  he 
is  a  prince  and  a  link  in  the  direct  succession  of 
one  of  the  great  royal  houses  of  Europe.  Such 
a  fate,  none  the  less,  befell  Frederick  Prince  of 
Wales,  the  son  of  King  George  the  Second  of 
England,  who,  when  he  came  to  die  untimely,  left 
hardly  a  soul  to  mourn  him,  except  the  boy  prince 
who  succeeded  him,  who,  we  read,  "cried  ex- 
tremely." Such  virtues  as  Frederick  possessed 
were  left  unnoted ;  his  faults,  which  were  undoubt- 
edly many,  were  written  at  length  by  his  foes. 
Here  is  what  the  biographer  upon  whom  we  are 
forced  chiefly  to  rely  says  of  Frederick  Prince 
of  Wales — 

"  Had  he  had  one  grain  of  merit  at  the  bottom 
of  his  heart,  one  should  have  had  compassion  for 
him  in  the  situation  to  which  his  miserable  poor 
head  soon  reduced  him,  for  his  case,  in  short,  was 
this  :  He  had  a  father  that  abhorred  him ;  a  mother 
that  despised  him;  sisters  that  betrayed  him;  a 

ii 


IN   THE   DAYS   OF   THE   GEORGES 

brother  set  up  against  him,  and  a  set  of  servants 
that  neglected  him." 

This  man,  then,  was  poor  in  most  that  makes 
life  worth  the  living,  and  a  little  charity  in  the 
recital  of  his  faults  from  those  who  set  down  the 
record  of  his  life  might  have  brought  some  post- 
humous redress,  if  only  to  his  memory.  That, 
too,  failed  him.  Lord  Hervey,  whom  we  have 
quoted  above,  and  Horace  Walpole,  whose  bitter 
Memoirs  and  Reminiscences  complete  the  story 
of  Frederick's  life,  were  both  his  sworn  foes;  the 
first  for  private  as  well  as  political  reasons;  the 
last  because  Frederick,  as  heir-apparent,  was  the 
very  head  and  front  of  the  opposition  to  Horace's 
father,  Sir  Robert  Walpole,  George  the  Second's 
great  minister.  So  Frederick's  career  makes  but 
a  poor  show  in  the  writings  of  those  historians. 
As  for  the  Prince's  memory,  for  most  people  it 
survives  to-day  only  in  the  lines  of  the  bitterest 
epitaph  of  an  age  much  given  to  bitter  exercises 
of  that  kind.  When,  in  1751,  Frederick  fell  back 
into  the  arms  of  his  valet  at  Carlton  House,  the 
streets  of  London  were,  within  a  few  hours,  ring- 
ing with  those  dreadful  lines  with  which  the 
Jacobite  enemies  of  his  family  commemorated  his 
death,  and  which  preserve  for  many  of  us  our 
single  memory  of  the  hapless  Prince— 

"Here  lies  Fred, 
Who  was  alive,  and  who's  dead, 
I  had  much  rather 
It  had  been  his  father; 
12 


A  ROYAL   FEUD   AND   ITS   VICTIM 

Had  it  been  his  brother, 

Still  better  than  another ; 

Had  it  been  his  sister, 

No  one  would  have  missed  her; 

Had  it  been  the  whole  generation, 

Still  better  for  the  nation; 

But  as  its  only  Fred, 

Who  was  alive,  and  who's  dead, 

There's  no  more  to  be  said." 

It  is  now  nearly  two  centuries  since  those  lines 
were  written,  and  perhaps,  at  this  later  date,  there 
may  be  a  little  more  to  be  said.  We  can  trace 
Frederick  through  his  forty-four  years  with  some 
better  guidance  of  recorded  fact  and  written  letter 
than  was  at  the  disposal  of  that  scribe  of  the  bitter 
pen;  we  can  at  least  consider  his  faults  with  a 
calm  judgment,  and  perhaps  with  a  more  charit- 
able outlook  than  those  who  occupied  themselves 
with  them  in  his  own  day. 

Frederick  Louis  was  born  at  Hanover  on  the 
6th  of  January,  1707,  his  father  George  being 
then  only  Electoral  Prince,  his  grandfather  the 
Elector  George  having  not  yet  succeeded  Queen 
Anne  in  the  throne  as  George  the  First  of  these 
kingdoms.  Of  Frederick's  childhood  we  know 
nothing,  except  that  he  was  the  eldest  of  eight 
children,  but  we  may  hope  that  he  met  with  some 
little  joy  in  those  early  years  of  his  life  to  make 
amends  for  the  troubles  which  came  thick  enough 
later.  Frederick's  father,  who  became  in  due 
time  our  King  George  the  Second,  was  only 
twenty-four  at  the  time  of  the  child's  birth,  and 

13 


IN  THE   DAYS   OF  THE   GEORGES 

it  is  pleasant  to  think,  as  we  say,  that  his  appear- 
ance increased  the  domestic  harmony  which  at 
present  prevailed  in  the  Prince's  modest  estab- 
lishment at  Herrenhausen,  that  old  cradle  of  the 
Brunswicks  just  outside  Hanover  city,  where 
Frederick's  father  and  grandfather  lived  together 
in  the  old  German  fashion,  and,  each  in  his  own 
way,  took  their  pleasure.  No  one  need  grudge 
Frederick  any  happy  recollections  of  his  child- 
hood at  Herrenhausen  as  some  compensation  for 
the  chagrins  of  his  youth  and  manhood. 

Vanity  seems  to  have  been  the  ruling  trait  in 
the  character  of  Frederick's  father,  George.  He 
was  a  small  man,  fond  of  his  little  figure,  proud 
of  his  shapely  leg,  which  he  was  later  careful  to 
display  with  the  Garter  on  it,  and  exulting,  per- 
haps, rather  in  the  show  than  in  the  reality,  proud 
of  his  intrigues  with  this  or  that  German  lady. 
He  was  known  as  Dapper  George  among  those 
who  were  highly  placed  enough  to  make  fun  of 
princes;  his  brother-in-law  Frederic  Wilhelm  of 
Prussia,  indeed,  used  to  speak  of  him  as  the 
Buffoon,  a  pleasantry  to  which  George  retaliated 
by  calling  that  monarch  the  Arch  Beadle  of  the 
Holy  Roman  Empire,  which  was  a  retort  not  lack- 
ing in  point  to  the  knowing  ones  of  those  days. 
But,  with  all  his  weaknesses,  George  had  many 
good  qualities.  He  told  the  truth,  and  he  was 
brave.  Only  a  year  after  Frederick's  birth  he 
joined  the  army  of  the  Allies  under  the  great 
Marlborough,  and  distinguished  himself  mightily 


A  ROYAL  FEUD  AND   ITS  VICTIM 

at  Oudenarde,  where  he  led  a  cavalry  charge,  was 
unhorsed,  and  more  than  once  in  deadly  peril. 
Years  later,  again,  at  Dettingen,  when  his  horse 
bolted  and  nearly  carried  him  into  the  enemy's 
lines,  he  dismounted,  with  the  remark  that  on  foot 
he  knew  he  should  not  run  away,  put  himself  at 
the  head  of  an  infantry  regiment,  waved  his  sword 
and  threw  himself  into  the  postures  of  a  fencing 
master,  led  them  into  action,  and  set  an  example 
for  the  bravest  captain  in  the  army.  He  would 
always  bring  out  his  old  Oudenarde  coat  in  later 
years  for  his  birthday,  and  his  people  laughed  at 
his  harmless  vanity,  but  cheered  when  they  saw  it 
at  public  festivals,  for  bravery  is  always  in  fashion. 
Frederick's  mother  was  the  brilliant  Caroline 
of  Anspach,  one  of  the  most  beautiful,  and  cer- 
tainly the  most  capable,  of  the  royal  ladies  of 
those  days.  No  Englishman  can  speak  of  Queen 
Caroline  of  England  without  respect;  the  great- 
ness of  modern  England  is  largely  due  to  the 
sagacity  and  steadfastness  of  that  Queen,  and  to 
her  wise  use  of  the  almost  unlimited  power  which 
the  character  of  the  King  placed  in  her  hands. 
Caroline  was  daughter  of  the  Margrave  of  Bran- 
denburg Anspach,  and  her  mother  having  been 
left  a  widow  when  little  Caroline  was  four  years 
old,  the  child  was  taken  to  the  court  of  the  Duke 
of  Saxony,  whom  her  mother  married  as  second 
husband.  .There  were  many  doings  at  that  ir- 
regular court  at  Dresden  which  were  unsuited  to 
Caroline's  tender  years,  and  for  her,  at  least,  it 

15 


was  a  good  thing  that  the  Duke  was  shortly  called 
to  his  fathers,  and  that  she  passed  while  still  quite 
young  into  the  keeping  of  her  guardian,  the 
Elector  of  Brandenburg,  afterwards  Frederic  the 
First  of  Prussia,  and  went  to  live  at  his  court  in 
Berlin. 

At  Berlin  the  little  Princess  Caroline  became 
a  favourite  with  all  who  knew  her,  and  among  her 
most  devoted  friends  was  her  guardian's  wife, 
the  Electress  Sophia  Charlotte,  a  lady  of  unusual 
intellectual  gifts,  the  friend  and  protector  of  many 
of  the  scientific  and  philosophical  bigwigs  of  her 
times,  including  the  erudite  Leibnitz,  who  was 
often  at  the  court,  and  the  advantage  of  whose 
teaching  the  young  girl  shared  with  the  Electress. 
The  old  Electress  Sophia  of  Hanover  was  also 
very  fond  of  the  brilliant  young  princess,  and 
both  those  great  ladies  were  pleased  to  say  that 
Berlin  and  Hanover  were  "  a  desert  without  her." 
The  old  Electress,  indeed,  quite  early  formed 
plans  for  Caroline's  betrothal  to  her  grandson 
Dapper  George,  and  that  in  spite  of  a  great 
matrimonial  project  which  had  been  on  foot  since 
1698  and  was  to  unite  her  to  the  Archduke  Charles 
of  Austria,  later  Charles  the  Sixth,  Emperor  of 
Austria,  and  titular  King  of  Spain.  By  the  year 
1704  this  project  was  so  seriously  in  train  that 
Caroline's  conversion  to  the  Catholic  faith  was 
thought  necessary,  and  a  Jesuit  father  was  told 
off  to  undertake  that  salutary  office.  The  good 
father,  however,  found  his  task  a  hard  one.  tThe 

16 


A  ROYAL   FEUD  AND   ITS   VICTIM 

Princess  refused  absolutely  to  accept  his  dogmas 
without  discussion,  disputed  with  his  reverence  in 
a  most  independent  manner,  and  was  ever  pre- 
pared with  awkward  questions  which  he  found  it 
most  difficult  to  answer.  It  is  said  that  after  each 
interview  with  the  Jesuit  she  would  seek  counsel 
with  the  Electress  Sophia  and  Herr  Leibnitz,  who 
both  encouraged  her  in  her  unaccommodating 
attitude  towards  the  priest.  In  any  case,  Caroline 
refused  to  accept  his  conclusions  altogether,  and 
herself  declined  further  negotiations  for  the  mar- 
riage in  a  letter  she  wrote  to  the  Archduke's  envoy, 
the  Elector  Palatine.  There  was  much  shaking  of 
heads  among  the  great  Catholic  families  at  this 
failure  to  snatch  the  brand  from  the  burning,  and 
a  corresponding  elation  among  those  of  the  Re- 
formed Church.  "  Providence  kept  a  reward  in 
store  for  such  an  exalted  virtue,"  said  Mr.  Addison, 
and  "her  pious  firmness,"  as  Bishop  Burnett 
remarked,  "  was  not  to  go  unrequited  even  in  this 
life."  .The  reward  and  requital  came,  it  may  be 
supposed,  when  this  gifted  lady  was  married  to 
Dapper  George  in  September  of  1705.  To  some 
it  may  seem  that  the  blessing  to  the  Princess  was  a 
good  deal  disguised,  but  there  is  no  doubt  as  to 
George's  good  fortune;  and  the  union  was  none 
the  less  a  blessing  to  the  kingdom  which  in  due 
time  Queen  Caroline  came  to  rule.  Dapper 
George,  despite  his  bravery,  went  through  life 
mainly  as  a  figure  of  fun  whom  people  failed  to 
take  quite  seriously.  He,  to  be  sure,  thought  him- 

B  17 


IN   THE   DAYS   OF  THE   GEORGES 

self  a  great  statesman,  and  was  prevented  by  his 
vanity  from  realizing  that  his  clever  wife  and  her 
great  minister  ruled  the  country  by  a  dexterous 
manipulation  of  that  very  quality.  So  he  con- 
tinued his  struttings  and  caperings,  to  the  amuse- 
ment of  all  Europe,  made  his  courtiers  laugh  when 
he  kicked  his  wig  round  the  room  at  St.  James's  in 
his  tantrums,  really  believed  that  he  had  the 
destinies  of  half  Europe  in  his  hands,  while  his 
watchful  Queen  kept  him  free  from  those  con- 
tinental entanglements  which  were  the  dread  of 
his  English  subjects,  and  allowed  Walpole  to  give 
England  that  long  period  of  profound  peace  which 
it  so  much  wanted,  and  which  laid  the  first  founda- 
tions of  its  later  greatness. 

To  this  pair,  then,  was  born  Frederick,  and  one 
cannot  doubt  that  his  arrival  was  an  occasion  of 
rejoicing  to  that  strangely  assorted  couple.  Dap- 
per George  was  undoubtedly  very  fond  of  his 
brilliant  wife,  then  and  afterwards,  though  his 
fondness  showed  itself  in  some  amazing  ways. 
But  at  this  early  period  he  had  not  developed 
that  propensity  of  his  later  years  for  irregular  con- 
nections with  improper  ladies,  and  Caroline,  poor 
lady,  was  devotion  itself  to  her  vain  little  prince 
to  the  day  of  her  death.  One  likes  to  think,  there- 
fore, of  some  domestic  peace  in  George's  estab- 
lishment at  Herrenhausen  during  those  early  days 
of  his  married  life ;  there  was  strife  enough  going 
on  under  the  same  roof  at  the  time,  which  was  to 
be  repeated  in  his  own  family  only  a  few  years  later. 

18  ' 


A  ROYAL   FEUD  AND   ITS   VICTIM 

Many  competent  judges  are  of  opinion  that  the 
shortcomings  of  Frederick's  career,  which  are  ad- 
mitted on  all  hands,  are  to  be  explained  by  that 
unfortunate  contention  between  father  and  son 
which  was  already  a  tradition  of  his  family,  and 
continued  for  two  generations  after  his  death.  The 
first  Elector  of  Hanover,  Ernest  Augustus,  seems 
to  have  got  on  very  well  with  his  son,  our  first 
George,  but  the  history  of  the  four  English 
Georges  and  their  offspring  is  that  of  a  house 
divided  against  itself.  That  disastrous  feud 
absolutely  extinguished  any  prospect  of  domestic 
happiness  in  the  royal  family  of  England  for  well 
over  a  hundred  years,  and  was,  perhaps,  in  its 
worst  phase  during  Frederick's  own  manhood.  A 
calm  consideration  of  all  the  facts  seems  to 
suggest  that  Frederick,  his  many  follies  notwith- 
standing, was  that  feud's  chief  victim.  In  any 
case,  to  form  any  valid  estimate  of  his  career,  it  is 
necessary  to  examine,  however  briefly,  the  origin 
of  that  sombre  tradition. 

This  royal  feud  had  already  borne  its  bitter 
fruit  in  the  relations  which  existed  between  Dapper 
George  and  his  father  at  the  time  of  Frederick's 
birth.  No  one  has  ever  satisfactorily  explained 
the  causes  of  the  beginning  of  the  strife,  but  the 
two  Georges  were  already  upon  the  worst  of 
terms.  Some  say  it  was  a  hereditary  jealousy  on 
the  part  of  the  father  of  the  son  who  must  succeed 
him;  others  that  it  was  the  son's  open  espousal 
of  his  mother's  cause  in  the  tragic  matrimonial 

»2  19 


IN  THE  DAYS   OF  THE   GEORGES 

difference  which  existed  Between  the  elder  George 
and  his  wife.  If  that  latter  reason  be  the  true 
one,  it  must  certainly  be  counted  for  righteousness 
to  the  son. 

There  are  few  sadder  stories  in  European  his- 
tory than  that  of  George  the  First  and  his  wife 
Sophia  Dorothea  of  Zell.  George,  in  the  year  1682, 
at  the  age  of  twenty-two,  had  married  the  beautiful 
Sophia  Dorothea,  daughter  of  the  Duke  of  Zell, 
and  this  lady  had  already  borne  him  two  children, 
Dapper  George,  and  Sophia,  afterwards  Queen  of 
Prussia,  when  the  domestic  peace  of  the  establish- 
ment at  Herrenhausen,  where  the  young  couple 
lived  with  the  Elector  Ernest,  became  much  dis- 
turbed by  a  variety  of  causes.  First  among  these 
was  undoubtedly  the  irregular  life  at  the  Electoral 
court,  where  existed  a  state  of  things  which  was 
exceedingly  galling  to  the  young  Electoral  Prin- 
cess, who  was  a  young  lady  of  more  than  average 
parts,  and  was  gifted  with  an  exceedingly  sharp 
tongue,  which  she  was  accustomed  to  exercise 
with  great  freedom.  Among  the  objects  of  her 
derision,  which  she  made  no  attempt  to  keep  to 
herself,  was  an  elderly  favourite  of  the  Elector 
Ernest,  a  certain  Countess  Platen,  of  whom  Sophia 
Dorothea  was  wont  to  make  unmerciful  fun,  and 
whose  rancorous  enmity  she  consequently  in- 
curred. The  Princess  was  already  on  bad  terms 
with  her  husband  George,  whose  taciturn  char- 
acter and  rather  boorish  habits  were  utterly  dis- 
tasteful to  the  sprightly  young  girl,  and  who  had 

20 


A   ROYAL   FEUD   AND   ITS   VICTIM 

already  added  matrimonial  infidelity,  and,  it  is 
said,  personal  violence,  to  the  grievances  she  had 
against  him.  There  suddenly  appeared  at  this 
inharmonious  court  of  Hanover  another  disturbing 
element  in  the  person  of  a  certain  Count  Philip 
Konigsmark,  an  adventurer  of  good  family,  who, 
after  wandering  about  Europe  in  evil  courses  of 
all  sorts,  had  got  a  place  at  that  court  as  Colonel 
of  the  Electoral  Guards,  and  was  perhaps  the 
most  accomplished  and  graceless  scamp  of  his 
times.  Sophia  had  known  this  Konigsmark  as  a 
child;  they  had,  in  fact,  been  playmates  together 
at  her  father's  court  at  Zell,  and  there  is  no  doubt 
that  she  welcomed  the  appearance  of  the  hand- 
some Konigsmark  at  Herrenhausen,  and  took  a 
natural  pleasure  in  his  company,  as  affording  some 
relief  from  the  dreary  surroundings  in  which  she 
found  herself  at  Hanover.  She  was,  doubtless,  in- 
discreet, and  lent  too  willing  an  ear  to  the  fascinat- 
ing colonel,  but  of  anything  further  than  indiscre- 
tion there  has  never  been  the  slightest  reliable 
evidence.  It  is  obvious,  however,  that  the  arrival 
of  Konigsmark  at  Herrenhausen,  in  the  circum- 
stances then  prevailing,  completed  all  the  ele- 
ments necessary  for  a  tragedy,  and  that  tragedy 
followed  surely  enough. 

Konigsmark,  who  was  a  hopeless  villain,  as  his 
career  already  proved,  was  well  known  in  Eng- 
land, where  he  had  been  concerned  with  his 
brother  in  that  atrocious  murder  of  Mr.  Thomas 
Thynne  in  Pall  Mall—"  Tom  of  Ten  Thousand," 

21 


IN   THE   DAYS   OF   THE   GEORGES 

whose  fate  may  still  be  seen  carved  in  stone  on  his 
tomb  in  Westminster  Abbey — and  it  was  a  thou- 
sand pities  that  a  halter  was  not  fitted  to  the 
Count's  handsome  neck  on  that  occasion.  At 
Hanover  he  swaggered  and  posed  as  a  rich  man, 
dressed  finely  and  in  good  taste,  was  witty, 
satirical,  gay  and  amusing.  He  seems  to  have 
made  a  sort  of  love  to  the  old  Countess  Platen  and 
her  daughter,  or  perhaps  allowed  them  to  make 
love  to  him.  At  any  rate,  he  went  about  bragging 
of  his  successes  with  those  ladies,  and  in  his  cups 
was  accustomed  warmly  to  espouse  the  cause  of  the 
Electoral  Princess  against  her  husband.  There 
are  never  wanting  busybodies  to  report  this  sort 
of  vapourings  in  the  quarters  where  they  are  likely 
to  do  the  most  harm,  and  it  was  not  long  before 
the  Platen  heard  of  Konigsmark's  indecent  boast- 
ings, and  of  the  part  he  had  taken  in  Sophia's 
matrimonial  differences  with  Prince  George.  She 
at  once  set  herself  to  gratify  the  hatred  she  bore 
to  both  these  young  people  by  devising  a  scheme 
for  their  undoing. 

Volumes  have  been  written  upon  the  history  of 
this  unfortunate  Princess  Sophia,  in  which  parti- 
sans of  herself  and  of  her  husband  have  stated  the 
case  for  each  with  the  fulness  and  acrimony  usual 
in  such  disputes ;  but  no  one  has  proved  the  guilti- 
ness of  her  relations  with  Konigsmark,  though  the 
archives  of  half  the  courts  of  Europe  have  been 
ransacked  with  that  purpose,  and  a  consideration 

of  the  evidence  now  available  points  certainly  to 

22 


great  indiscretion  on  her  part,  but  to  nothing 
more.  That  indiscretion,  however,  made  the 
Platen's  task  of  compromising  her  an  easy  one. 
That  wicked  painted  old  harridan  seized  her 
first  opportunity  of  making  mischief  when  she 
saw  Konigsmark  take  the  baby  George  from  his 
young  mother's  arms  in  the  garden  at  Herren- 
hausen,  and  carry  the  child  to  the  Princess's 
apartments;  that  lady's  husband  was  away,  but 
the  Platen  posted  off  hot-foot  to  Elector  Ernest, 
reported  the  incident,  and  thus  succeeded  in 
creating  an  atmosphere  of  suspicion  about  the 
relations  of  Konigsmark  and  the  Princess.  The 
Elector,  it  is  said,  was  not  inclined  to  make  any 
fuss,  but  gave  it  as  his  opinion  that  in  relieving 
the  tired  Sophia  of  the  child,  Konigsmark  had 
paid  her  "  an  insolent  attention."  Later  on,  upon 
the  return  of  Prince  George,  the  Platen  contrived 
that  a  glove  of  Sophia's  should  be  dropped  in  a 
pavilion  in  the  garden  which  Konigsmark  was 
known  to  have  just  quitted,  and  found  by  her  hus- 
band, and  the  point  was  emphasized  by  the  Platen 
sending  a  messenger,  as  if  from  the  Princess,  for 
its  recovery.  She  then  turned  her  attention  to  the 
Prince  himself,  used  all  her  wiles  to  get  him  to 
accept  her  sister,  Mme.  von  Busche,  as  his  favour- 
ite, and  failing  in  that  scheme,  introduced  Melu- 
sina  Schulemberg  to  him,  and  had  the  satisfaction 
of  seeing  that  lady  installed  in  that  position  at  a 
public  festival  which  she  gave  in  honour  of  her 
sister's  wedding.  Outraged  at  this  indignity,  the 


IN   THE   DAYS   OF   THE   GEORGES 

poor  Princess  Sophia  fled  to  her  father's  court  at 
Zell,  but  the  Duke  could  give  her  no  help,  and 
she  was  forced  to  return  to  Hanover.  Here  there 
is  no  doubt  she  poured  her  woes  into  the  sym- 
pathetic ear  of  Konigsmark,  as  the  only  person 
about  that  dismal  court  in  whom  she  could  confide. 
They  met  often,  but  never  alone,  so  far  as  has 
been  proved,  and  she  undoubtedly  invoked  his  aid 
in  attempting  to  escape  from  surroundings  which 
she  found  intolerable.  Her  enemies  said  that  she 
proposed  to  accompany  him  upon  a  visit  he  was 
about  to  make  to  Paris;  it  seems  more  certain, 
however,  that  the  scheme  in  which  she  asked  his 
assistance  was  to  help  her  to  escape  to  the  court  of 
her  cousin  the  Duke  of  Wolfenbuttel.  But  their 
goings  and  comings  were  watched  by  the  Platen, 
who  seized  the  opportunity  of  a  second  absence  of 
Prince  George  for  a  plot  of  a  fiendish  cunning  and 
ferocity.  She  sent  a  note  to  Konigsmark,  signed 
with  the  forged  signature  of  the  Princess,  request- 
ing him  to  attend  Sophia  at  her  apartment. 
Konigsmark,  nothing  loth,  perhaps,  obeyed  the 
summons,  and  found  Sophia  attended  by  her  maid 
of  honour,  Mile.  Knesebeck,  who  was  present 
throughout  the  interview  which  followed.  His 
appearance,  however,  in  the  Princess's  apartments 
was  sufficient  for  the  purposes  of  the  Platen,  and 
as  soon  as  her  agents  had  seen  Konigsmark  within 
the  doors  of  the  palace,  she  herself  hurried  off  to 
the  Elector,  reported  the  fact,  and  procured  from 
him  an  order  for  Konigsmark's  arrest.  She  then 

24 


A  ROYAL   FEUD   AND   ITS   VICTIM 

went  to  the  palace  guard,  showed  the  order,  bribed 
the  halberdiers  both  with  wine  and  gold,  and  in- 
structed them  to  arrest  the  Count  alive  or  dead. 
The  guard  concealed  themselves  behind  a  high 
stove  in  the  Hall  of  Knights,  which  Konigsmark 
must  cross  in  leaving  the  Princess's  rooms.  He 
was  seized  from  behind  as  he  passed  the  stove, 
and  struck  down  with  a  halberd  as  he  drew  his 
sword  to  defend  himself.  As  he  fell  he  cried, 
"  Spare  the  innocent  Princess,"  and  it  is  said  that 
the  Platen  appeared  at  the  cry,  and  crushed  with 
her  heel  the  lips  of  the  dying  man  as  he  cursed  her 
with  his  last  breath.  The  paving  of  the  palace 
floor  was  taken  up,  and  his  body  buried  in  lime 
near  where  it  fell. 

The  greatest  efforts  were  made  to  hush  up  this 
awful  tragedy  in  which,  of  course,  the  Electoral 
Prince  had  no  hand,  but  in  vain.  George  was 
quite  prepared  to  let  matters  rest  and  to  resume  his 
relation  of  husband  with  the  Princess,  but  to  no 
purpose.  She  refused  all  offers  of  compromise  by 
declaring  that  if  she  was  guilty  she  was  unworthy 
of  the  Prince,  if  innocent,  he  was  unworthy  of  her. 
This  attitude  and  its  consequences  seem  to  raise  a 
very  strong  presumption  of  her  innocence.  George 
was  forced  to  bring  a  suit  of  divorce  against  his 
wife,  and  summoned  a  consistory  court  for  that 
purpose.  In  the  pleadings  before  this  court  no 
charge  of  adultery  was  brought  against  Sophia, 
and  the  decree  which  was  pronounced  against  her 
on  the  28th  of  December,  1694,  divorced  her  from 

25 


IN   THE   DAYS   OF   THE   GEORGES 

her  husband  upon  the  ground  of  desertion.  Upon 
the  execution  of  this  sentence  she  took  an  oath 
upon  the  Sacrament  solemnly  protesting  her  inno- 
cence, an  oath  which  she  repeated  weekly  at  that 
sacred  office  throughout  her  life.  She  was  removed 
to  the  castle  of  Ahlden,  situated  in  a  dreary  morass 
near  the  banks  of  a  river  of  that  name,  where  she 
lived  closely  guarded  for  thirty  years. 

It  seems  entirely  creditable  to  this  poor  lady's 
son,  Dapper  George,  that  as  he  grew  up  he  refused 
altogether  to  believe  in  his  mother's  guilt.  So 
little  was  this  the  case,  indeed,  that  he  and  his 
sister,  later  Queen  of  Prussia,  engaged  in  a  sur- 
reptitious correspondence  with  her,  and  George,  it 
is  said,  cherished  schemes  for  her  deliverance. 
He  made  one  effort,  at  least,  to  see  her.  As  a 
youth  he  was  hunting  in  the  neighbourhood  of  her 
prison,  and  before  any  of  his  suite  realized  his 
intention,  rode  off  alone  at  top  speed  towards  the 
castle.  He  had  reached  the  woods  of  Ahlden, 
and  must  soon  have  been  in  communication  with 
his  mother,  when  he  was  overtaken  by  his  guard- 
ians, put  under  arrest,  and  sent  back  to  Hanover. 
This  feeling  of  sympathy  and  pity  by  the  son  for 
a  mother  he  had  not  seen  since  his  early  childhood, 
however  creditable  to  him,  was  obviously  no  re- 
commendation to  his  father  in  all  the  circum- 
stances, and  seems  to  supply  the  best  explanation 
of  the  family  strife  of  the  Brunswicks  which  began 
with  the  two  first  Georges,  and  lasted  until  George 
the  Fourth  saw  his  daughter,  the  Princess  Caro- 

26 


A   ROYAL   FEUD   AND   ITS   VICTIM 

line,  descend  untimely  into  the  grave  a  full  cen- 
tury later. 

It  must  have  been  a  strange  household,  that  at 
Herrenhausen,  two  generations  of  the  same  family 
living  under  the  same  roof  at  issue  with  each  other, 
and  the  patriarchal  Elector  and  his  wife  divided 
in  their  sympathies  between  the  two.  As  a  rule  it 
would  seem  that  the  Elector  Ernest  sided  with  his 
son  George;  the  Electress  Sophia  was  most  cer- 
tainly a  partisan  of  her  grandson  Dapper  George. 
All  these  unfortunate  differences  were  intensified 
rather  than  soothed  by  the  arrival  of  Dapper 
George's  bride,  the  brilliant  Princess  Caroline  of 
Anspach.  One  is  rather  sorry  on  the  whole  for 
the  elder  George.  He  was  of  a  silent,  inarticulate 
character,  but  an  able  man  who  in  political  matters 
acted  straightforwardly  and  with  a  wise  caution, 
and  a  fair  estimate  of  his  whole  career  will  accept 
him  as  a  reliable,  honest  prince.  He  had  his 
private  faults,  of  course,  but  they  were  those  of 
his  house  and  of  his  times,  and  he  cannot  be  said 
to  have  had  the  best  of  luck  with  his  womenkind. 
Whatever  the  merits  or  demerits  of  his  wife's  affair 
with  Konigsmark,  his  treatment  of  that  hapless 
lady,  up  to  a  point  at  least,  was  justified  by  the 
usage  of  his  rank  and  hers.  Princesses  are  not 
permitted  the  liberties  which  are  allowed  to  ladies 
of  lower  station,  and  the  appearance  which  her 
conduct  bore  to  the  world  after  the  death  of  Ko- 
nigsmark, as  well  as  her  refusal  of  all  compromise, 
made  a  separation  inevitable. 

27 


IN  THE   DAYS   OF   THE   GEORGES 

After  that  separation  George  was  content  to 
amuse  himself  with  those  appanages  of  the  court 
which  were  an  accepted  part  of  the  Electoral 
establishment,  of  whom  the  harridan  Platen,  his 
father's  favourite,  was  a  type.  England  later 
was  familiar  with  two  of  those  ladies,  Melusina 
Schulemberg,  and  the  Countess  Kielmansegge ; 
its  peerage,  in  fact,  was  adorned  by  both,  under 
the  titles  of  Duchess  of  Kendal  and  Countess  of 
Darlington  respectively.  George,  at  Hanover, 
was  quite  content  with  the  society  of  these  ladies, 
and  wished  only  to  be  left  undisturbed  with  them, 
with  his  beer  and  tobacco,  of  which  he  was  inordi- 
nately fond,  and  to  the  rather  drowsy  and  slow- 
going  life  which  he  loved. 

Suddenly  into  this  establishment  comes  the  bril- 
liant Caroline,  devoted  to  her  husband,  Dapper 
George,  espousing  his  side  of  the  paternal  feud 
with  the  greatest  spirit,  and  prepared  on  every 
occasion  to  make  all  sorts  of  fun  at  her  father-in- 
law,  his  ugly  mistresses,  his  beer-drinking  and  his 
tobacco-smoking ;  his  taciturnity  all  the  while  help- 
less against  her  sallies.  His  own  mother,  too,  the 
old  Electress  Sophia,  a  lady  of  the  very  greatest 
importance  as  a  granddaughter  of  James  the  First 
of  England,  through  whom  his  house  was  presently 
to  be  exalted  to  the  British  throne,  was  already 
more  than  partial  to  his  sharp-tongued  daughter- 
in-law.  We  have  seen  that  she  inspired  the  young 
lady  to  reject  suitors  like  the  Kaiser  of  Austria, 
and  had  reserved  her  for  her  own  grandson,  the 

28 


A  ROYAL   FEUD   AND   ITS   VICTIM 

Dapper  one.  One  cannot  doubt  which  side  the 
Electress  took  in  those  distressful  family  quarrels. 
One  may  imagine,  then,  with  great  probability, 
that  George  had  but  a  poor  time  of  it  between 
these  royal  ladies,  and  that  that  was  a  genuine 
cry  of  anguish  which  came  from  his  taciturn  soul 
when  he  spoke  of  his  daughter-in-law  as  "cette 
diablesse  Madame  la  Princesse." 

To  Dapper  George  and  his  Princess  in  such 
surroundings  came  little  Frederick  in  1707,  and  it 
is  more  than  probable  that  his  early  memories  were 
identified  with  this  atmosphere  of  domestic  strife, 
which  was  destined  to  bear  fruit  of  the  same  kind 
in  his  relations  with  his  own  parents  in  years  to 
come.  But  at  this  moment  the  little  flaxen-haired 
Fred  was  a  personage  of  the  highest  consideration, 
as  a  link  in  the  chain  of  direct  descent  of  his 
family,  a  family  which  at  length  was  clearly  de- 
stined to  greater  things  than  at  one  time  seemed 
probable.  Poor  Queen  Anne's  endless  maternal 
troubles  had  all  proved  in  vain  when  her  little  son 
the  Duke  of  York  died  at  eleven  years  of  age  in 
1700,  and  the  English  people  had  decided  by  a 
solemn  instrument  that  she  should  be  succeeded  in 
the  throne  by  the  Electoral  family  of  Hanover,  in 
virtue  of  their  descent  from  James  the  First  through 
the  old  Electress  Sophia.  These  prospects  gave 
a  distinct  increase  of  consideration  to  the  Bruns- 
wicks  among  the  German  courts  of  their  neigh- 
bours, and,  indeed,  throughout  Europe.  Hanover 
was  only  one  among  those  numerous  German 

29 


IN  THE   DAYS   OF   THE   GEORGES 

states  and  principalities  whose  chief  importance 
in  an  international  aspect  lay  in  their  possession 
of  a  vote  in  the  election  of  the  Kaiser  of  the 
Reich.  Hanover  had  not  yet  attained  to  the 
dignity  of  a  kingdom,  like  Prussia,  Bavaria,  or 
Saxony.  The  act  of  settlement,  therefore,  which 
ensured  the  throne  of  the  powerful  and,  above  all, 
rich,  nation  of  England  to  the  Electoral  family 
of  one  of  the  less  important  German  states  added 
much  to  its  dignity.  That  dignity  was  not  less- 
ened by  the  fact  that  it  was  reasonably  secure. 
There  were  three  generations  of  Brunswicks  alive 
when  Frederick  was  born,  the  eldest,  his  grand- 
father, being  little  past  his  prime,  and  the  addition 
of  Frederick  to  the  line  of  his  fathers  was  hailed 
by  all  parties  interested  as  a  very  auspicious  event. 
It  is  well  to  remember  little  Frederick's  exact 
value  in  the  Brunswick  succession,  in  view  of  the 
scant  consideration  he  received  from  his  own 
parents  in  later  years. 

That  want  of  consideration  showed  itself  first, 
perhaps,  when,  upon  the  death  of  Queen  Anne, 
and  the  accession  of  George  the  First  to  the  throne, 
Frederick's  father  and  mother  followed  the  King 
to  England,  and  left  the  boy  of  seven  to  the  care 
of  his  nurses  at  Hanover.  There  were,  doubtless, 
reasons  for  leaving  themselves  unencumbered 
upon  their  first  arrival  in  this  country.  But  it 
seems  a  little  harsh  and  unnatural  to  have  allowed 
their  eldest  son  to  grow  to  manhood  without  set- 
ting eyes  upon  him  after  his  seventh  year  :  neither 

30 


A  ROYAL   FEUD  AND   ITS   VICTIM 

George  nor  Caroline  again  met  Frederick  until  he 
came  over  to  England  as  Prince  of  Wales  after 
his  father's  accession.  Meanwhile,  the  feud  be- 
tween George  Prince  of  Wales,  and  his  father  the 
King  broadened  and  deepened.  Their  relations 
had  been  going  from  bad  to  worse  during  the  last 
years  at  Hanover;  George  the  elder  had  been 
reasonably  perturbed  by  a  feminine  intrigue  of 
the  old  Electress,  who  proposed  to  the  Whig  party 
in  this  country  that  the  hopeful  son,  who  had 
already  been  created  Duke  of  Cambridge  in  the 
House  of  Peers,  should  visit  Queen  Anne  and 
publicly  take  his  seat  in  that  house;  that  the 
English  people,  in  fact,  should  have  the  first 
glimpse  of  their  future  rulers  in  the  person  of  the 
Dapper  George  with  the  fine  leg  and  whatever 
graces  youth  could  lend  to  his  little  person,  before 
his  silent  and  unattractive  parent  had  ever  ap- 
peared before  his  prospective  subjects  at  a  public 
function  of  any  kind.  The  Elector,  as  well  as 
Queen  Anne,  forbade  the  proposal,  and  it  was 
promptly  abandoned. 

The  unfortunate  strife  between  these  two 
Georges  was,  of  course,  common  knowledge  in 
Hanover,  and  the  elder  had  not  occupied  the 
throne  a  twelvemonth  before  their  relations  were 
conspicuous  to  the  whole  of  England  as  well. 
There  was  first  of  all  a  contest  as  to  the  allowance 
of  the  Prince,  now  a  personage  of  great  import- 
ance, with  an  amazingly  clever  wife,  who  had 
already  presented  an  appreciative  nation  with  an 


IN  THE   DAYS   OF   THE   GEORGES 

heir  to  the  throne,  and  so  relieved  it  of  any  anxiety 
as  to  questions  of  the  succession,  always  trouble- 
some, and  generally  dangerous,  as  England  and 
Europe  knew  to  their  cost.  Although  the  Prince 
was  kept  under  the  royal  eye,  so  to  speak,  by 
reason  of  the  old  Hanoverian  arrangement  by 
which  the  young  couple  dwelt  under  the  same  roof 
with  his  Majesty  at  St.  James's,  he  still  managed 
to  attract  what  the  King  thought  an  undue  share 
of  attention.  His  Majesty  would  have  wished  to 
have  the  matter  of  the  Prince's  allowance  left  in 
his  own  hands,  as  a  means  of  keeping  some  little 
control  over  the  doings  of  his  son  and  daughter-in- 
law;  and  the  Whig  party,  as  in  duty  bound,  were 
quite  prepared  to  see  eye  to  eye  with  his  Majesty 
in  that  affair.  But  his  Majesty  was  soon  to  learn 
the  blessings  of  a  parliamentary  system  which 
prevailed  in  a  country  of  which  he  was  constitu- 
tional monarch,  and  of  which  the  body  pleasantly 
known  as  "His  Majesty's  Opposition  "  is  an  im- 
portant element.  .These  gentlemen,  being  of  the 
Tory  complexion,  quite  naturally  sympathized 
with  the  heir-apparent  in  the  matter  of  pocket- 
money,  with  the  result  that  that  royal  gentleman 
was  voted  the  comfortable  sum  of  £100,000  per 
annum. 

Then  the  King,  with  the  cares  of  Hanover  still 
upon  his  shoulders,  went  back  to  that  country  in  the 
first  year  of  his  English  reign,  and  unguardedly 
appointed  the  Prince  regent  during  his  absence. 
This  brought  the  Regent  much  in  the  public  eye, 

32 


A    ROYAL   FEUD  AND   ITS   VICTIM 

who  was,  naturally  enough,  happy  to  make  the 
most  of  his  opportunity.  Dapper  George  made 
great  strides  in  public  favour,  we  read,  displayed 
his  little  figure  to  the  best  advantage  on  all  public 
occasions,  and  strutted  and  played  Prince  Charm- 
ing to  admiration.  His  Princess,  too,  with  parts 
immeasurably  superior  to  those  of  her  vain  little 
husband,  was  fully  endowed  with  the  graces  and 
charm  which  belong  to  her  sex  and  station,  and 
became  hugely  popular  with  the  good  British 
public.  The  poor  King  in  Hanover  was  almost 
forgotten,  and  came  back  quite  sore  at  the  place 
he  found  occupied  by  his  son,  who  during  his 
father's  absence  received  all  the  credit  for  the 
settlement  of  the  Jacobite  Rebellion  of  1715. 
There  followed  suspicion  and  hostility  on  both 
sides,  every  matter  of  ceremonial  and  etiquette 
was  an  occasion  for  the  display  of  ill  feeling. 
Behind  each  of  the  men  was  his  womenkind,  whose 
influence  was  not  exerted  in  the  cause  of  peace, 
we  may  be  sure.  King  George  had  brought  with 
him  from  Hanover  the  ladies  Schulenberg  and 
Kielmansegge,  upon  whom,  in  the  fashion  of  those 
times,  he  had  bestowed  comfortable  pensions  and 
sinecure  offices  upon  this  or  that  establishment, 
and  who  presided  over  his  household,  and  were  his 
chief  companions  and  confidantes.  So  complete, 
indeed,  was  their  reign  in  his  domestic  affairs  that 
between  them  they  shared  the  whole  of  the  per- 
sonal jewels  left  by  Queen  Anne;  and  Queen 
Caroline,  when  she  came  to  the  throne  with  her 

33 


IN  THE   DAYS   OF   THE   GEORGES 

husband  a  few  years  later,  found  only  a  single 
necklace,  of  no  great  value,  of  which  to  take 
possession. 

Opposed  to  this  establishment,  and  under  the 
same  roof,  was  that  of  the  Prince  with  the  witty, 
sharp-tongued  Princess  at  its  head,  and  it  is  easy 
to  imagine  the  friction  between  the  two  households 
that  followed.  It  is  true  that  the  Prince  was 
shortly  to  develop  a  reputation  for  gallantry  be- 
side which  his  royal  father's  fredaines  were  pale 
and  ineffectual.  He  was,  indeed,  already  making 
eyes  at  this  or  that  lady  of  his  wife's  little  court, 
the  charming  Mary  Bellenden,  for  instance,  who 
sent  him  about  his  business  in  double-quick  time, 
or  Mrs.  Howard,  who  suffered  him  more  gladly. 
But  at  present  there  was  the  appearance  of  de- 
corum, at  least,  in  his  domestic  arrangements, 
which  made  his  wife's  attitude  towards  those  of 
the  King  intelligible,  if  not  altogether  justifiable. 
In  any  case,  there  was  a  state  of  affairs  at  St. 
James's  between  the  silent  King  with  his  stolid 
companions  on  the  one  hand,  and  the  Prince  and 
"cette  diablesse  Madame  la  Princesse"  on  the 
other,  which  was  clearly  intolerable.  .When  one 
remembers,  also,  that  the  Prince  had  a  real  griev- 
ance against  the  King,  in  the  suppression  of  the 
Electress  Sophia's  will  by  the  elder  George,  a 
will  in  which  he  believed  himself  to  have  been 
handsomely  remembered,  there  is  little  wonder 
that  the  relation  of  the  two  came  to  open  rupture 
at  last.  George  and  his  Princess,  in  fact,  were 

34 


A  ROYAL  FEUD   AND   ITS   VICTIM 

told  plainly  to  go,  and  St.  James's  knew  them  no 
more,  to  their  own  and  King  George's  inexpres- 
sible relief,  no  doubt.  So  the  younger  George  re- 
moved the  Princess  and  her  ladies  and  his  dapper 
self  to  Leicester  House  in  Leicester  Fields,  where 
he  kept  a  little  court  of  his  own — Leicester  House, 
which  stood  near  the  corner  of  Cranbrook  Street 
in  Leicester  Square,  and  was  called  the  "pouting- 
place  for  princes,"  because,  as  we  shall  see  later, 
Frederick  came  to  the  same  place  in  the  same 
dudgeon  when  he  had  quarrelled  with  his  royal 
father. 

These  royal  bickerings,  patent  enough  to  the 
public  already  by  the  removal  of  the  Prince  from 
St.  James's,  were  destined,  three  years  later,  to 
reach  a  point  of  acerbity  which  set  all  the  courts 
of  Europe  laughing.     Princess  Caroline  lay  by 
in  1717,  and  there  was  a  function  at  the  christen- 
ing of  her  little  son  which  necessitated  the  meet- 
ing of  the  opposed  courts  at  Leicester  House. 
Prince  George  had  views  of  his  own  as  to  the 
godfathers  for  his  little  son,  and  wished  his  uncle, 
the  Bishop  of  Osnaburgh,  to  be  one,  as  a  person- 
age of  a  suitable  eminence  for  so  important  an 
occasion.     That  wish,  in  the  circumstances,  was 
quite  sufficient  for  the  King  to  decide  otherwise. 
So  he  cast  about  him  and  selected  the  Duke  of 
Newcastle,   a  young  nobleman   of  twenty-eight, 
and  of  great  consideration  in  point  of  family  and 
influence,  it  is  true,  but  not  the  sort  of  godfather 
that  the  Prince  desired  for  his  child.    So  George 
C2  35 


IN   THE  DAYS   OF   THE   GEORGES 

decided  to  protest,  and  he  made  his  protest  in 
very  characteristic  fashion.  The  royal  party  was 
assembled  in  the  Princess's  bedroom  for  the  cere- 
mony, the  King  and  his  court,  with  the  godfathers, 
on  one  side  of  the  bed,  the  Prince  and  the  Prin- 
cess's ladies  on  the  other.  No  sooner  had  the 
Archbishop  spoken  the  last  words  of  the  service 
than  Prince  George  ran  round  the  foot  of  the  bed, 
shook  his  fist  in  the  Duke  of  Newcastle's  face 
under  the  very  nose  of  the  King,  and  spluttered 
in  a  towering  passion,  "  You  are  a  villain,  and  I 
shall  find  you " ;  meaning  in  his  imperfect 
English,  that  he  would  find  a  time  to  be  even 
with  him.  Never  was  such  a  to  do;  the  King 
ordered  the  Prince  to  be  put  under  arrest  in 
his  own  house,  and  Lady  Suffolk,  coming  to 
the  Princess's  bedchamber  next  morning,  had  a 
halberd  pointed  at  her  breast  by  a  sentry  at  the 
door. 

Such  was  the  family  strife  in  which  Frederick 
was  born  and  in  which  he  was  reared,  that  weary 
tradition  which  he  inherited  and  from  which  he 
suffered.  We  have  done  at  last  with  the  disputes 
between  the  two  first  Georges,  a  bare  recital  of 
which  was  necessary  in  order  to  make  plain  the 
difficulties  with  which  Frederick  himself  had  to 
contend  in  later  years.  That  there  has  been  no 
exaggeration  of  these  differences  by  the  numerous 
gossiping  writers  who  have  reported  them  seems 
clear,  if  only  from  the  fact  that  when  the  second 
George  came  to  the  throne  his  wife,  looking 

36 


A   ROYAL   FEUD   AND   ITS   VICTIM 

through  her  father-in-law's  private  papers,  found 
among  them  a  proposal  in  black  and  white  from 
Berkley,  the  Lord  of  the  Admiralty,  that  the 
Prince  should  be  spirited  away  to  the  plantations 
and  never  heard  of  again.  George  the  First  was 
too  humane  a  man  to  entertain  such  a  proposal, 
but  the  paper  remained  as  a  witness  to  the  aspect 
in  which  the  royal  discord  was  regarded  by  others, 
and  as  a  standing  accusation  against  Berkley,  who 
naturally  received  scant  favour  when  the  Prince 
came  to  the  throne. 

Frederick  all  this  time  was  growing  up  with  his 
governors  at  Herrenhausen,  a  light-haired,  rather 
weak  sort  of  youth  by  all  accounts,  totally  neg- 
lected by  his  parents,  as  it  would  seem.  Details 
of  his  early  youth  are  quite  lacking,  but  there  is 
little  doubt  that  as  he  grew  up  he  began  to  try 
to  improve  upon  the  example  set  him  by  his  fore- 
bears, and  that  he  ran  through  the  gamut  of  such 
forbidden  pleasures  as  Hanover  and  his  oppor- 
tunities of  evading  his  governors  and  tutors 
afforded.  In  any  case,  he  is  reported  as  leading 
"an  extremely  dissolute  life."  Small  as  was  the 
consideration  .bestowed  by  George  and  Caroline 
upon  Frederick's  upbringing,  they  were  none  the 
less  fully  conscious  of  the  place  he  held  in  the 
succession  of  their  family,  and  Frederick  could 
have  been  little  more  than  seven  years  of  age 
when  his  parents  began  casting  about  for  a  pro- 
spective bride  for  him,  and  their  matrimonial 
schemes  eventually  took  a  very  ambitious  shape. 

37 


IN   THE   DAYS   OF   THE   GEORGES 

Little  Frederick,  indeed,  was  to  be  a  chief  per- 
sonage in  the  famous  Double  Marriage  project, 
which  was  to  unite  the  two  great  Protestant  houses 
of  Britain  and  Prussia.  The  scheme  had  been 
approved  in  general  terms  by  the  heads  of  both 
houses  since  the  early  days  of  Dapper  George's 
marriage  to  Caroline  and  that  of  his  sister  Sophia 
to  Frederic  Wilhelm  of  Prussia.  This  abstract 
aspiration  was,  of  course,  greatly  strengthened  by 
the  arrival  of  heirs  in  both  families.  George  and 
Caroline  had  in  due  time  a  son  and  daughter, 
Frederick  and  Amelia;  the  Prussian  royal  house 
was  similarly  blessed  in  the  persons  of  Frederic, 
Crown  Prince,  and  his  sister  IWilhelmina.  With 
the  arrival  of  this  new  and  complete  generation 
of  both  houses  upon  the  scene,  the  rather  nebulous 
idea  of  the  Double  Marriage  assumed  a  more 
defined  shape.  Frederick  of  England  was  to 
marry  little  Wilhelmina;  Frederic  of  Prussia  his 
little  cousin  Amelia  of  England.  The  scheme 
became  an  accepted  thing  between  the  two  houses, 
acquiesced  in  by  the  heads  of  both,  and  promoted 
especially  by  Sophia  of  Prussia,  who  from  the 
first  had  set  her  heart  upon  seeing  Wilhelmina 
Queen  of  England. 

Frederick  was  thus  provided  with  a  romance 
from  his  earliest  childhood,  which,  as  he  grew  up, 
he  accepted  with  ardour;  he  began  to  fancy  him- 
self in  love  with  the  little  cousin  he  had  never 
seen,  wrote  little  love-letters  to  her  and  made  her 
little  presents.  Little  Wilhelmina,  too,  according 

38 


to  her  own  account,  accepted  the  situation  with  a 
proper  maidenly  demureness;  took  Frederick's 
little  presents  along  with  her  dolls  and  other 
playthings  as  a  child,  and  as  she  grew  into  girl- 
hood, assumed  a  sort  of  indifferent  acquiescence 
in  what  she  considered  was  a  settled  destiny. 
Her  mother,  however,  lost  no  opportunity  of  im- 
pressing her  with  the  advantages  of  the  match. 
As  Frederick  came  to  manhood,  and  the  reports 
of  his  sad  doings  at  Hanover  reached  the  Prussian 
court,  Wilhelmina  would  listen  to  such  counsel 
from  her  mother  as  this :  "  He  is  a  prince,  that 
Frederick,  who  has  a  good  heart,  but  whose  genius 
is  rather  small;  rather  ugly  than  not,  and  a  little 
misshapen.  But  if  you  can  only  bring  yourself 
to  bear  his  follies,  you  will  be  able  to  govern  him 
entirely,  and  when  his  father  dies,  you  will  be 
more  king  than  he.  You  will  give  laws  to  the 
nation,  and  it  will  be  you  who  will  decide  on  the 
greater  matter  of  the  happiness  of  Europe." 

The  matter  thus  tacitly  accepted  by  both 
families  went  but  lamely,  nevertheless,  after 
George  the  First  came  to  England  as  king.  In 
the  first  place,  the  prospective  brides  and  bride- 
grooms were  at  present  in  long  clothes  or  short 
petticoats,  and  silent  and  cautious  George  very 
plausibly  took  that  incontestable  fact  as  a  valid 
reason  for  being  in  no  indecent  hurry  in  the 
matter.  Then,  again,  there  was  the  uncomfortable 
posture  of  affairs  between  himself  and  Dapper 
George.  .Why  should  he  take  all  kinds  of  trouble 

39 


IN  THE  DAYS   OF  THE   GEORGES 

about  that  son's  affairs  when  the  reprobate  and 
his  sharp-tongued  wife  were  thwarting  his  Majesty 
at  every  turn,  stealing  popularity  from  under  his 
very  nose,  and  making  fun  of  his  honest  Kendals 
and  Darlingtons?  Treaties  for  the  marriage  of 
princes  and  princesses,  moreover,  involved  all 
sorts  of  troublesome  arrangements  with  stingy 
English  parliaments,  of  which  the  poor  King  was 
learning  by  bitter  experience.  Were  there  not  all 
sorts  of  murmurings  at  the  provision  for  his 
Majesty's  own  needs;  at  the  modest  allowances 
for  the  Kendals  and  Darlingtons?  What  would 
such  niggard  political  hucksters  find  to  say  if  he 
entered  into  treaties  requiring  settlements  for  the 
marriages  of  his  grandson  and  granddaughter,  the 
one  playing  with  his  rocking-horse  at  Herren- 
hausen,  the  other  squalling  in  her  nurse's  arms  at 
St.  James's  ?  "  Let  them  wait,"  he  said  to  every 
proposal;  "the  parties  were  young  enough,  let 
them  wait."  These  were  surely  valid  reasons  for 
the  cautious  George's  hesitation  in  the  matter,  and 
we  need  not  search  for  others,  or  take  much  heed 
of  Wilhelmina's  very  feminine  suggestion,  which 
she  recorded  in  those  diverting  Memoirs,  written 
as  an  elderly  lady,  from  which  we  draw  most  of 
our  information,  that  when  Grandpapa  George 
came  to  the  English  throne  and  ruled  that  great 
and  rich  country,  he  was  inclined  to  look  down 
upon  Prussia  and  its  court. 

Dapper  George  and  Caroline  do  not  seem  to 
have  worried  much  in  the  matter,  and  were  content 

40 


A   ROYAL   FEUD  AND   ITS   VICTIM 

to  let  it  rest ;  indeed,  they  were  in  no  position  with 
the  King  to  make  any  other  course  effective.  But 
it  was  quite  different  with  Queen  Sophia  at  Berlin. 
That  restless  lady  never  let  an  opportunity  pass 
of  doing  all  she  could  to  forward  the  matter.  She 
preached  it  into  her  daughter's  ears  with  such 
eloquence  and  constancy  that  Wilhelmina  never 
doubted  the  matter  was  a  fixed  thing,  and  at  the 
age  of  fifteen  began  to  look  forward  to  the  pos- 
sibilities of  her  future  position.  When  King 
George  came  over  to  Herrenhausen  Queen  Sophia 
would  go  to  visit  him  there  from  Berlin,  button- 
hole her  father  and  draw  him  apart  to  discuss  the 
project.  But  Papa  George  was  not  to  be  driven. 
It  was  a  fixed  thing,  he  said,  but  not  to  be  hurried, 
and  he  would  turn  the  subject  by  taking  his 
daughter  to  the  window  and  asking  her  if  she  did 
not  think  the  Herrenhausen  gardens,  with  their 
clipped  beech  hedges  and  Leibnitz  waterworks, 
very  fine.  As  a  fact,  nothing  was  done  during 
George's  life,  and  when  death  seized  him  in  his 
coach  on  the  way  to  Osnaburgh  in  1727,  the 
Double  Marriage  was  hardly  less  nebulous  than 
when  it  took  a  misty  shape  at  Hanover  twenty 
years  earlier. 

Frederick  was  now  twenty,  still  living  at  Han- 
over, with  no  other  control  from  his  parents  than 
the  doling  out  of  the  funds  which  supported  his 
modest  retinue;  they  had  not  seen  him,  indeed, 
for  twelve  years,  and,  so  far  as  is  known,  the 
young  Prince  had  been  mewed  up  at  Herren- 


IN  THE   DAYS   OF   THE   GEORGES 

hausen  and  had  never  left  his  native  place  during 
that  period.  But  at  twenty  most  youths  of  spirit, 
in  whatever  rank  of  life,  find  means  of  escaping 
from  the  thraldom  of  tutors  and  governors,  and 
Frederick  being  no  exception  to  the  rule,  was 
living  his  own  life  at  Hanover  with  no  particular 
credit  to  himself  or  his  family,  a  state  of  things 
to  be  deplored,  but  not  wondered  at.  The  pro- 
jected wedding  with  Wilhelmina  meanwhile  began 
to  excite  his  youthful  imagination,  and  he  seems 
to  have  worked  himself  up  into  as  ardent  a  pas- 
sion as  was  possible  in  the  absence  of  the  young 
lady  and  his  total  ignorance  of  her  charms  and 
personality.  He  found  all  the  help  he  could  hope 
for  from  his  aunt  Queen  Sophia  at  Berlin.  What- 
ever the  signs  of  languor  among  the  other  parties 
to  the  compact,  there  was  no  loosening  of  purpose 
on  the  part  of  that  lady,  with  whom  every  sigh  of 
the  love-lorn  Frederick  found  a  sympathetic  echo. 
There  was  even  a  confidential  correspondence 
between  the  two,  in  which  it  is  said  that  Frederick 
proposed  to  rush  off  privately  to  Berlin,  marry 
his  Wilhelmina  secretly  offhand,  and  leave  the 
potentates  of  both  families  to  adjust  matters  after- 
wards as  they  could.  Some  colour  was  given  to 
the  rumour  by  the  sudden  imprisonment  of  one 
of  Frederick's  emissaries  in  that  city  for  some 
unknown  offence  which  was  never  made  public, 
but  there  was  no  truth  in  it.  Frederick,  however, 
undoubtedly  wrote  in  very  ardent  fashion  to  his 
aunt  Sophia,  who  very  thoughtfully  burned  his 

42 


Frederick    Prince    of    Wales 


A   ROYAL   FEUD   AND   ITS    VICTIM 

letters  as  soon  as  read,  and  she  displayed  the 
greatest  anxiety  to  see  him  at  the  Prussian  court 
as  the  accepted  lover  of  her  Wilhelmina. 

The  visit  of  the  King  of  Saxony  to  Berlin  in 
May  of  1728  seemed  to  promise  a  great  oppor- 
tunity for  that  auspicious  event,  and  it  would 
appear  that  Queen  Sophia  and  Frederick  had 
some  understanding  on  the  subject,  for  Wilhel 
mina  says,  not  without  a  touch  of  humour,  that 
during  the  preparations  for  the  festival  her  mother 
"took  every  ass  and  mule  for  his  Royal  High- 
ness." Dubourgay,  the  English  Minister  in  Ber- 
lin, faithfully  reported  every  rumour  to  the  like 
effect,  which  may  have  had  the  result  of  preventing 
the  visit.  In  any  case  it  never  took  place,  and 
Frederick  himself  was  removed  from  the  danger 
zone  by  being  ordered  to  join  his  parents  in  Eng- 
land. He  arrived  at  St.  James's  in  February  of 
1729  after  a  journey  which  was  kept  almost  a 
secret,  and  his  marriage  with  Wilhelmina  was  as 
far  off  as  ever. 

It  is  true  that  things  looked  more  prosperous  in 
the  following  year,  when  an  English  envoy,  Sir 
Charles  Hotham,  went  over  to  Berlin  with  the  idea 
of  coming  to  some  arrangement  on  the  whole  subject 
of  the  Double  Marriage.  Frederick  now  was  more 
impatient  than  ever  for  the  match,  could  not  con- 
tain his  ardour,  in  fact,  and  wrote  very  pressing 
letters  to  Sir  Charles :  "  I  conjure  you,  my  dear 
Hotham,"  said  he,  "  to  get  these  negotiations  fin- 
ished; I  am  madly  in  love  (amoreux  comme  un 

43 


IN  THE   DAYS   OF   THE   GEORGES 

fou),  and  my  impatience  is  unequalled."  Wilhel- 
mina  thought  these  sentiments  very  romantic  from 
a  young  man  who  had  never  seen  her,  and  was 
inclined  to  make  fun  of  him  and  his  vows,  or  at 
least  said  she  was,  when  later  she  came  to  write  an 
account  of  that  tender  passage.  But  most  of  her 
people  thought  the  matter  settled.  There  were 
daily  conferences  between  Frederic  Wilhelm 
and  Hotham,  and  after  one  of  these  the  King  com- 
manded that  gentleman  and  the  British  ambas- 
sador to  stay  to  dinner  at  Potsdam  palace,  where, 
as  the  former  records,  they  all  got  immoderately 
drunk.  The  King,  thinking  the  matter  as  good  as 
arranged,  could  not  conceal  his  joy,  filled  his  glass, 
and  drank  to  Wilhelmina,  Princess  of  Wales.  The 
very  servants  pricked  up  their  ears  at  this,  and  one 
of  them  went  off  at  full  gallop  with  the  news  to 
Berlin  Schloss,  where  the  Queen  was  sitting  with 
her  ladies.  One  of  these  rushed  up  to  Wilhel- 
mina's  room  with  the  joyful  news.  "  Is  that  all  ?  " 
was  that  young  lady's  comment,  according  to  her 
own  account.  But  the  Queen  addressed  her  as 
Princess  of  Wales,  and  her  lady  in  waiting  as  "  my 
lady,"  until  the  sagacious  Fraulein  Sonsfield  sug- 
gested it  might  be  as  well  to  wait  for  such  titles 
until  the  King  had  proclaimed  the  matter  settled ; 
very  good  advice  as  it  turned  out,  for  a  grievous 
hitch  had  already  occurred  in  the  negotiations. 

There  were  several  explanations  for  this  unfor- 
tunate interruption,  but  there  is  little  doubt  that  it 
originated  with  Frederick's  father  at  St.  James's. 

44 


A    ROYAL  FEUD  AND  ITS   VICTIM 

In  the  light  of  later  events,  it  is  quite  clear  that 
Dapper  George  had  no  particular  wish  to  see 
Frederick  settled,  at  present,  at  least;   he  had  a 
second  and  favourite  son  in  the  Duke  of  Cumber- 
land for  one  thing,  and  the  hereditary  jealousy  of  a 
Brunswick  King  for  a  Brunswick  Prince  of  Wales 
had  already  begun  to  operate  upon  his  mind. 
Then  he  and  his  brother-in-law  at  Berlin  had 
already  points  of  difference :    they  had  long  ago 
been  exchanging  abusive  nicknames,  as  we  have 
seen ;  Frederic  Wilhelm,  it  is  said,  had  never  for- 
given George  for  marrying  Caroline,  whom  he 
wanted  for  himself,  and  he  was  at  no  pains  to  con- 
ceal his  low  estimation  of  her  husband's  parts. 
Now  that  George  was  King  of  England  the  thought 
of  the  poor  opinion  of  his  ability  which  prevailed 
at  Berlin  was  little  soothing  to  his  royal  dignity,  a 
quality  upon  which  he  set  great  store.    Politically, 
too,  Prussia,  under  Frederic  Wilhelm's  very  able 
government,  was  daily  becoming  of  more  and  more 
consideration  among  the  nations  of  Europe,  in 
whose  counsels  Hanover  was  almost  a  negligible 
quantity.     There  were  endless  minor  points  of 
difference  between  the  two  kings.    In  the  recruit- 
ing of  his  famous  regiment  of  Potsdam  Guards, 
which  was  Frederic  Wilhelm's  pet  hobby,  he  was 
accustomed  to  ride  that  hobby  roughshod  over  the 
feelings,  as  well  as  the  frontiers,  of  his  neighbours. 
Hanover,  and  many  another  State,  had  grievous 
complaints  to  make  at  Berlin  at  regular  and  fre- 
quent intervals  about  this  or  that  honest  subject  of 

45 


IN  THE   DAYS   OF  THE  GEORGES 

theirs  who,  unhappy  in  his  inches,  had  been 
"recruited"  for  Berlin  in  circumstances  which 
amounted  to  kidnapping  of  the  most  unblushing 
kind.  One  of  Frederic's  agents  once  came  upon  a 
village  carpenter  of  seven  feet  and  over  whom  he 
determined  to  procure  for  his  master's  corps  of 
giants.  He  ordered  from  the  carpenter  a  chest 
exactly  seven  feet  six  inches  long.  The  chest  was 
finished  and  delivered  by  the  artisan.  "  You  have 
made  it  too  short,"  said  the  officer.  "  No,  sir," 
replied  the  carpenter,  "  I  myself  am  seven  foot 
three  and  I  could  lie  down  in  it  at  ease."  '  I  can- 
not believe  it,"  said  the  agent,  "  unless  I  see  you 
do  it."  The  man  lay  down  in  the  chest,  the  agent 
popped  on  the  lid,  screwed  it  down,  put  it  on  a 
cart,  and  drove  it  a  few  miles  over  the  frontier 
into  Prussia,  where  he  found  his  "  recruit "  suffo- 
cated for  want  of  air.  There  were  other  griev- 
ances also  between  these  two  masterful  brothers- 
in-law.  They  had  a  long-standing  dispute  as  to 
the  ownership  of  certain  meadows  lying  on  the 
borders  of  their  territories,  insignificant  in  point  of 
size  and  value,  but  a  very  precious  bone  of  conten- 
tion between  the  two  monarchs,  over  which  they 
disputed  like  two  angry  farmers.  As  the  grass 
ripened  in  these  meadows  one  would  steal  a  march 
on  the  other  by  having  it  cut  without  notice,  put  on 
carts,  carried  over  the  border,  and  made  into  hay 
on  his  own  territory.  So  angry  did  they  get  about 
these  measures  that  Frederic  proposed  to  challenge 
George  to  single  combat,  and  was  only  dissuaded 

46 


A  ROYAL   FEUD   AND   ITS   VICTIM 

by  his  ministers,  who  said,  truly  enough,  that  he 
would  make  himself  the  laughing-stock  of  Europe. 
Finally  Frederic  Wilhelm  had  a  son,  the  not- 
able youth  who  in  due  time  became  Frederic  the 
Great,  and  who  was,  of  course,  an  important  figure 
in  the  Double  Marriage  project,  but  with  whom 
he  was  on  the  worst  of  terms.  The  youth  of  Fred- 
eric is  a  part  of  the  history  of  the  world.  The 
discipline  that  hapless  boy  received  at  this  time 
would  be  past  belief  were  it  not  recorded  in  the 
diplomatic  correspondence  of  every  court  in 
Europe.  Frederic  was  knocked  down  and  caned 
by  the  paternal  hand;  the  crockery  would  fly  at 
him  at  meal-times,  urged  by  the  same  force ;  worst 
of  all,  he  would  hear  from  the  royal  lips  that  a  lad 
of  any  spirit  would  blow  his  brains  out  rather 
than  submit  to  such  treatment.  Frederic  of 
Prussia,  like  Frederick  of  England,  had  his  ro- 
mance provided  for  him  by  the  Double  Marriage 
project,  and  his  cousin  Amelia  was  much  in  his 
thoughts  during  those  heavy  years.  He  decided, 
indeed,  to  fly  to  his  aunt  Caroline  to  escape  from 
the  paternal  chastisement,  was  caught  in  the  act, 
court-martialled  as  a  deserter,  and,  it  is  said,  sen- 
tenced to  death.  His  companion  and  helpmate 
did  suffer  the  penalty.  Here,  in  fine,  was  a  state 
of  things  in  Prussia  between  father  and  son  which 
promised  no  hymeneal  raptures  as  a  solution. 
Frederic,  willing  enough  for  Fred  of  England 
to  marry  Wilhelmina,  would  hear  nothing  at  pre- 
sent with  regard  to  Fred  of  Prussia  and  cousin 

47 


IN  THE   DAYS   OF  THE   GEORGES 

Amelia.  George  chose  to  say  "  both  or  none,"  and 
to  stand  by  it,  and  the  Double  Marriage  project 
was  at  an  end  at  last.  Frederic  Wilhelm  sealed 
the  matter  by  at  once  looking  out  for  a  husband  for 
Wilhelmina,  and  gave  her  to  choose  between  a 
convent  and  centain  elderly  royal  but  disreput- 
able bridegrooms  whom  he  indicated.  He  relented 
a  little,  however,  and  on  the  27th  of  May  1731, 
.Wilhelmina  was  betrothed,  and  later  married,  to  a 
very  personable  young  prince  from  Baireuth,  lived 
an  obscure  but  not  unhappy  life  at  that  little  court, 
and  wrote  her  Memoirs  in  her  later  days  which 
were  published  in  French  in  1811,  and  are  very 
excellent  reading. 

We  have  gone  forward  a  little  to  attend  the 
obsequies  of  poor  Frederick's  romance,  and  must 
return  two  years  to  watch  his  arrival  in  England 
and  his  establishment  in  leading-strings  at  St. 
James's.  We  probably  know  as  much  of  the 
Prince  up  to  the  age  of  two-and-twenty  to-day  as 
any  one  in  England  at  that  time,  including  even 
his  own  parents.  One  or  two  English  travellers 
had  seen  him  at  Herrenhausen.  Lord  Hervey,  his 
enemy  of  later  years,  when  making  the  grand  tour, 
paid  his  respects  to  the  little  Prince  of  nine,  and 
gave  his  father,  Lord  Bristol,  "  a  lively  description 
of  the  blooming  beauties  of  his  person  and  char- 
acter," which  is  in  refreshing  contrast  to  anything 
he  wrote  of  his  Prince  later.  Lady  Mary  Wortley 
Montagu,  too,  formed  a  similarly  favourable  esti- 
mate of  the  boy  about  the  same  time ;  she  thought 

48 


"our  young  Prince  has  all  the  accomplishments 
possible  at  his  age,  with  an  air  of  sprightliness 
and  understanding,  and  something  so  very  engag- 
ing and  easy  in  his  behaviour  that  he  needs  not 
the  advantage  of  his  rank  to  appear  charming." 
Those  were  almost  the  only  panegyrics  that  were 
ever  written  of  poor  Fred,  and  we  record  them, 
therefore,  if  only  as  curiosities. 

There  was  no  state  or  ceremony  whatever  about 
the  Prince's  journey  to  England,  and  Frederick 
came  to  the  country  of  which  he  was  heir  to  the 
throne  with  as  little  notice  as  any  private  gentle- 
man returning  from  the  grand  tour.  He  seems  to 
have  created  a  favourable  impression  upon  his 
first  appearance ;  Lady  Bristol  wrote  to  her  lord  at 
Ickworth,  after  seeing  him,  that  he  was  "  the  most 
agreeable  young  man  it  was  possible  to  imagine," 
and  that  she  believed  "  the  world  never  produced 
a  royal  family  so  happy  in  one  another." 

Unfortunately,  however,  these  appearances  were 
absolutely  at  variance  with  the  real  facts,  and  the 
Prince  had  not  been  in  this  country  for  three 
months  before  he  and  his  father  were  on  the  worst 
of  terms. 

A  great  mystery  has  been  made  about  the  origin 
of  this  unfortunate  dissension,  but  a  consideration 
of  all  the  evidence  now  available  will  make  it 
fairly  clear.  We  have,  perhaps,  hinted  at  a 
primary  cause  in  describing  the  relations  between 
George  the  First  and  George  the  Second,  and 
that  traditional  jealousy  of  the  heir-apparent  by 
D  49 


IN  THE   DAYS   OF  THE   GEORGES 

the  reigning  king  must  certainly  be  taken  into 
account.    The  King  would  not  hear  of  Frederick's 
coming  to  England  until  he  was  forced  to  send 
for  him.    Walpole,  in  George  the  First's  time,  had 
told  that  monarch  that  if   Frederick  were  not 
brought  over  during  his  reign  he  would  never  set 
foot  on  these  shores,  and  it  was  only  upon  the 
minister's  representation  to  George  the   Second 
that  there  would  be  a  popular  tumult  and  an 
address  from   Parliament  to  the   Crown  if  the 
Prince's  coming  were  longer  delayed,  that  George 
at  length  gave  way  and  sent  for  him.     Horace 
Walpole    and    Lord    Hervey    both    wrote    very 
mysteriously  of  some  "  disgraceful  truths  "  about 
the  Prince  as  a  cause  for  ill-feeling  between  father 
and  son ;  Lord  Chancellor  Hardwicke  was  quoted 
as  telling  Sir  Robert  Walpole  "of  certain  pas- 
sages between  the  King  and  himself,  and  between 
the  Queen  and  the  Prince,  as  of  too  high  and 
secret   a    nature    even    to    be    trusted"    to    his 
memoirs.     There  was  much  head-shaking  about 
this  by  Horace  and  others,  who  hinted  at  some 
enormity  committed  by  the  youthful  Prince  at 
Hanover.    As  a  matter  of  fact,  there  is  the  strong- 
est reason  to  believe  that  the  "  high  and  secret " 
matter  mentioned  by  Lord  Hardwicke  was  the 
failure  of  a  proposal  of  George  the  Second  to  cut 
off  Frederick  from  the  succession  of  the  English 
throne;  to  leave  him  the  petty  kingdom  of  Han- 
over, in  fact,  and  give  his  younger  brother,  the 
Duke  of  Cumberland,  the  English  crown.    George 

50 


A   ROYAL  FEUD   AND   ITS  VICTIM 

had  broached  this  precious  scheme  to  the  old  King 
in  1725,  who  would  have  none  of  it.  Frederick 
was  old  enough  to  judge  for  himself,  he  said,  and 
unless  he  consented  to  forego  his  right  to  the 
English  succession  nothing  could  be  done.  In 
the  face  of  these  facts  it  is  useless  to  point  to 
Frederick's  life  at  Hanover  as  the  cause  of 
George's  hatred  of  his  son.  We  must  remember 
that  his  excesses  there  were  the  natural  result  of 
his  being  left  alone  without  a  sight  of  his  parents 
for  thirteen  years,  and  whatever  his  offence,  it  was 
a  youthful  folly  at  its  worst.  Moreover,  it  did  not 
lie  in  George  the  Second's  mouth  to  preach  ser- 
mons of  morality  and  to  deliver  homilies  upon 
the  shortcomings  of  a  son  whose  upbringing  from 
the  age  of  childhood  he  had  left  to  tutors  and 
governors.  Indeed,  there  is  no  reason  to  believe 
that  he  did  so,  and  the  mysterious  offence  of 
Frederick's  youth  at  which  Horace  Walpole  shook 
his  head  was,  in  fact,  the  failure  of  his  father's 
scheme  for  disinheriting  him  in  favour  of  his 
brother  William.  A  better  judge  than  Horace 
Walpole,  and  one  possessed  of  later  and  fuller 
information,  John  Wilson  Croker,  was  of  that 
opinion. 

Ferderick  thus  came  to  England  under  no 
very  favourable  auspices,  and  it  cannot  be  said 
that  the  nature  of  his  reception  at  court  held  out 
much  promise  of  an  improvement.  He  was  duly 
created  Prince  of  Wales  in  January  of  1729,  but 
it  proved  a  somewhat  empty  title,  shorn  as  it  was 
D2  51 


IN   THE   DAYS   OF   THE   GEORGES 

of  much  of  the  dignity  of  that  illustrious  position. 
He  was  given  a  suite  of  rooms  at  St.  James's  under 
the  same  roof  with  his  parents,  which  precluded 
any  idea  of  a  real  court  of  his  own,  and  his  allow- 
ance was  fixed  by  George  at  the  paltry  sum  of 
£26,000  a  year,  and  that  not  as  a  right,  but  as  a 
voluntary  payment  subject  to  withdrawal  at  the 
King's  pleasure.  Frederick  not  unnaturally  re- 
sented this  treatment.  'The  King's  civil  list  had 
been  settled  on  an  unprecedentedly  liberal  scale 
by  Walpole,  who  had  secured  his  power  by  out- 
bidding Compton  on  the  King's  accession,  and 
provided  £830,000  for  George,  and  a  separate 
jointure  of  £100,000  for  Queen  Caroline.  It  was 
a  distinctly  understood  thing  when  the  list  was 
settled  that  it  included  £100,000  for  the  Prince, 
and  there  is  little  wonder  that  he  made  a  grievance 
at  his  shabby  treatment  in  the  matter  and  at  the 
King's  refusal  to  pay  the  debts  he  left  behind  him 
at  Hanover,  or  that  he  chafed  at  the  state  of 
tutelage  in  which  he  was  placed  by  his  scanty 
income  and  his  residence  under  the  paternal  eye 
at  St.  James's. 

Nor  was  there  any  disinclination  on  George's 
part  to  provide  his  son  with  other  grievances. 
There  was  the  notorious  matter  of  the  suppression 
of  George  the  First's  will  and  that  of  his  brother, 
the  Bishop  of  Osnaburgh,  for  instance.  At  the 
first  council  held  after  the  old  King's  death 
George  snatched  up  his  father's  will  from  under 
the  very  nose  of  Archbishop  Wake,  who  produced 

52 


A  ROYAL  FEUD  AND   ITS   VICTIM 

it,  put  it  into  his  pocket,  and  it  was  never  seen 
again.  The  council  stared  at  each  other,  and 
though  they  all  agreed  later  that  the  royal  cat 
should  be  belled,  no  one  was  found  with  courage 
enough  to  attempt  the  process.  George  the  First, 
no  doubt  with  a  remembrance  of  his  own  conduct 
in  a  similar  matter,  had  very  thoughtfully  de- 
posited a  duplicate  of  the  will  with  the  Duke  of 
Wolfenbuttel.  But  his  son  was  equal  to  the 
emergency.  There  was  some  diplomatic  question 
pending  at  the  time  between  Hanover  and  that 
duchy,  and  George  at  once  instructed  Newcastle, 
his  Secretary  of  State,  to  send  a  messenger  to  the 
Duke  agreeing  to  the  treaty  he  wished,  on  his  own 
terms,  in  exchange  for  the  duplicate  will.  Fred- 
erick thought  he  might  be  remembered  by  his 
grandfather  in  that  document,  and  had  a  natural 
grievance  in  its  suppression.  The  matter  was  not 
in  the  least  improved  when  the  King  paid  Lord 
Chesterfield  £20,000  in  respect  of  a  legacy  said 
to  have  been  left  by  his  father  to  the  Duchess  of 
Kendal,  whose  daughter,  Lady  Walsingham, 
Chesterfield  married.  Then  the  thrifty  King 
impounded  Frederick's  income  from  the  Duchy 
of  Lancaster ;  there  had  been  great  embezzlement 
by  a  dishonest  official  during  his  own  enjoyment 
of  the  revenues  as  Prince  of  Wales,  and  he 
thought  proper  to  consider  his  deficit  a  first  charge 
on  the  duchy  when  it  came  to  his  son,  so  he  inter- 
cepted the  whole  income.  'As  to  the  Bishop  of 
Osnaburgh's  will,  George  would  not  produce  it, 

53 


and  declared  roundly  that  everything  was  left  to 
himself  as  nephew.  But  he  met  another  masterful 
personality  in  this  business  in  Frederic  of  Prussia, 
who  insisted  on  seeing  it,  and  rescued  the  jewels 
from  his  relative's  clutches,  which  he  found  were 
bequeathed  to  his  Queen.  No  wonder  altogether 
that  Frederick  felt  aggrieved,  and  when  the  King 
went  a  second  time  to  Parliament  about  some 
shortage  which  he  thought  he  had  discovered  in 
the  yield  of  the  sources  of  income  allotted  to 
satisfy  his  civil  list,  and  got  the  convenient  Wai- 
pole  to  coax  the  reluctant  Commons  into  taking 
his  view  of  the  matter,  the  Prince,  as  Hervey 
tells  us,  was  "extremely  flippant  in  his  comment 
on  this  measure,  and  pretended  to  disapprove 
entirely  his  father's  conduct  on  this  occasion." 

It  does  not  seem  necessary  to  search  further  for 
causes  of  dissension  between  father  and  son  in 
such  circumstances  as  these,  though  there  were 
others  not  far  away.  Frederick  wished  for  a 
military  training;  it  was  forbidden  him,  and  be- 
stowed upon  his  brother,  the  Duke  of  Cumber- 
land. The  King  went  to  Hanover,  passed  over 
Frederick  in  naming  the  Queen  as  Regent,  and 
ordained  that  wherever  her  Majesty  had  her  dwell- 
ing, whether  in  London  or  at  Kew,  there  must 
Frederick  be  tied  to  her  apron-string.  Here, 
surely,  were  all  the  elements  of  a  family  quarrel 
which  was  likely  to  outvie  that  between  Dapper 
George  and  his  father  in  virulence.  If  we  add 
that  there  was  a  hungry  opposition  almost  panting 

54 


A  ROYAL   FEUD   AND   ITS   VICTIM 

for  the  blood  of  the  court  minister,  Sir  Robert 
Walpole,  who  was  just  getting  comfortably  seated 
in  a  renewed  lease  of  power,  and  hoping  to  use 
the  Prince  as  a  fireship  for  the  holy  purpose  of 
blowing  the  minister  from  his  anchorage;  that 
Queen  Caroline,  as  time  went  on,  was,  if  possible, 
more  set  against  her  son  than  King  George  him- 
self, we  can  picture  a  set  of  circumstances  likely 
to  produce  a  very  unedifying  exhibition  of  the 
traditional  Brunswick  rancour.  As  it  turned  out, 
the  omens  were  not  belied,  and  the  result  ex- 
ceeded expectation.  The  family  feuds  of  the 
Georges  were  certainly  at  high-water  mark  during 
the  twenty-two  years  of  Frederick's  remaining 
life ;  if  is  equally  certain  that  he  was  not  alone,  or 
even  chiefly,  to  blame. 

One  would  be  inclined,  perhaps,  to  consider  as 
Frederick's  chief  misfortune  the  place  his  enemy 
Lord  Hervey  held  at  court.  Hervey  had  married 
the  beauteous  Mary  Lepel,  one  of  Princess  Caro- 
line's maids  of  honour,  and  on  the  Prince's  acces- 
sion had  been  taken  over  by  Walpole  as  a  sort  of 
court  appanage,  who  gave  him  a  pension  of  ;£iooo 
a  year,  and  appointed  him  vice-chamberlain  to 
the  Queen.  He  was  on  terms  of  the  greatest 
confidence  with  that  royal  lady,  and  was  of  the 
greatest  use  to  Walpole  as  a  means  of  communica- 
tion, through  her,  with  the  King.  At  the  time  of 
the  old  King's  death  he  was  abroad  for  his  health, 
found  Frederick  installed  at  St.  James's  upon  his 
return,  and  before  six  months  were  passed  was 

55 


IN   THE   DAYS    OF   THE    GEORGES 

the  Prince's  open  and  declared  enemy.  Hervey 
himself  never  gave  any  reason  for  this  quarrel, 
but  it  was  an  open  secret  that  Frederick,  in  the 
manner  of  his  house,  had  taken  a  certain  Miss 
Vane  as  his  favourite  with  whom  Hervey  had 
previously  been  on  the  same  terms,  and  Hervey 
repaid  the  injury  with  the  greatest  malignancy 
that  can  be  imagined.  He  deliberately  set  himself 
to  foment  the  differences  already  existing  between 
Frederick  and  his  parents,  boasted  of  his  success 
in  presenting  every  action  or  motive  of  the  son 
in  the  worst  possible  light,  and  never  lost  an 
opportunity  of  poisoning  the  Queen's  mind  where 
the  Prince  was  concerned.  The  one  thing  that 
can  be  urged  for  Hervey  is  the  candour  with  which 
he  rejects  any  show  of  impartiality.  Writing  of 
himself  in  the  third  person,  as  was  his  habit,  in 
those  astounding  memoirs  which  he  left  to  illumin- 
ate that  extraordinary  court,  this  is  what  he  admits 
of  his  attitude  towards  the  Prince— 

"  The  pains  he  (that  is,  himself,  Lord  Hervey) 
took  to  bring  Sir  Robert  Walpole  into  every 
scheme  to  mortify  the  Prince,  and  the  zeal  with 
which  he  laboured  every  project  to  distress 
H.R.H.,  would  not,  I  believe,  if  one  could  have 
dived  into  the  deepest  source  of  every  action,  have 
been  found  to  proceed  merely  from  his  desire  to 
prevent  Sir  Robert  losing  his  interest  with  the 
King  and  Queen,  any  more  than  I  imagine  all  the 
severe  and  bitter  things  he  said  to  the  King  and 
Queen  at  this  time  of  their  son  flowed  solely  from 

56 


A   ROYAL   FEUD   AND   ITS    VICTIM 

a  desire  to  make  court  to  their  passions,  and  not 
a  little  to  indulge  the  dictates  of  his  own." 

The  man  who  writes  thus  of  himself  was  he  who 
stood  at  the  Queen's  ear  as  long  as  she  lived, 
through  whose  malevolence  every  word  and  action 
of  the  Prince  was  filtered,  and  tinctured  in  the 
process,  and  who  was  his  chief  biographer.  It 
was,  we  repeat,  Frederick's  greatest  misfortune 
to  have  had  this  man  as  a  devil's  advocate  during 
the  greater  part  of  his  life,  and  as  the  recording 
angel  of  his  sins. 

Frederick  accordingly,  in  such  surroundings, 
and  with  many  grievances,  real  or  fancied,  was 
accustomed  to  make  the  most  of  them,  to  pose  in 
public  as  an  injured  innocent,  and  to  gain  what- 
ever access  of  popularity  was  forthcoming  from 
the  circumstances  in  which  he  found  himself.  The 
family  secrets  at  St.  James's  were  no  secret  in  the 
streets;  the  lack  of  funds  for  the  princely  estab- 
lishment was  advertized  by  the  ostentatious  dis- 
missal of  servants  and  by  the  borrowing  of 
prodigious  sums,  to  be  repaid  when  he  came  to  the 
crown.  He  would  attend  at  a  fire  at  dead  of  night, 
carry  water  and  handle  the  pumps  side  by  side 
with  the  meanest  citizen,  and  be  greeted  with  loud 
cries  of,  "  Crown  him  !  Crown  him  !  "  and  next 
day  the  papers  would  give  him  credit  for  having 
saved  a  whole  Inn  of  Court  from  destruction. 
Similar  ovations  would  attend  him  at  the  play, 
would  be  reported  by  the  faithful  Hervey  to  the 
Queen,  and  cause  her  and  her  royal  husband  much 

57 


IN  THE   DAYS   OF   THE   GEORGES 

perturbation  of  spirit.  Then  the  failure  of  the 
Double  Marriage  project  was  a  real  grievance  for 
poor  Frederick;  he  saw  princes  of  other  royal 
houses  of  Europe  settled  with  princesses  and 
establishments  of  their  own,  and  given  commands 
in  the  great  marchings  and  countermarchings 
which  were  going  on  along  the  Rhine,  while  he 
Was  an  unconsidered  appanage  of  the  English 
court  of  distinctly  less  importance  than  a  vice- 
chamberlain.  A  wife  of  any  sort  would  be  some- 
thing, he  decided,  so  he  determined  to  choose  one 
for  himself. 

There  was  living  at  that  time  at  Marlborough 
House  the  dowager  Duchess  of  Marlborough, 
who  in  old  age  had  lost  little  of  the  spirit  which 
had  distinguished  the  Sarah  Jennings  of  an  earlier 
period.  The  Duchess  was  no  great  admirer  of 
his  Majesty,  whom  she  was  accustomed  to  speak 
of  as  "neighbour  George,"  and  was  quite  ready 
to  undertake  to  ease  the  Prince  of  his  love-pains 
by  providing  him  with  a  wife  and  a  comfortable 
dowry.  So  she  chose  Lady  Diana  Spencer  from 
among  her  grandchildren,  provided  a  parson,  and 
a  place  for  the  ceremony  at  her  own  lodge  in 
Windsor  Great  Park,  and  was  ready  with  £100,000 
for  Frederick  so  soon  as  the  knot  was  tied.  Wai- 
pole,  however,  got  wind  of  the  plot,  and  was  just 
in  time  to  prevent  its  accomplishment,  and  Fred- 
erick was  naturally  in  worse  odour  than  ever  with 
George  and  Caroline. 

It  is  useless  to  follow  the  details  of  the  differ- 

58 


A   ROYAL   FEUD   AND   ITS   VICTIM 

ences  that  ensued  as  time  went  on,  the  puerile 
disputes  in  which  neither  side  appears  to  any 
advantage,  but  in  which  the  parents  were  at  least 
as  much  to  blame  as  the  son,  who  really  had  sub- 
stantial grievances.  The  great  Mr.  Handel,  who 
was  the  Princess  Royal's  music  master,  had  en- 
gaged in  Opera  at  the  Haymarket,  and  must  Be 
protected  and  encouraged  by  the  King  and  Queen 
accordingly.  This  was  an  excellent  reason  for 
Frederick  to  extend  his  favour  to  Mr.  Handel's 
rival,  Signor  Buonicini,  whom  he  ostentatiously 
supported  at  the  old  theatre  in  Lincoln's  Inn 
Fields.  This  discord  over  the  rival  harmonies  of 
the  two  virtuosos  became  quite  important  politic- 
ally :  an  anti-Handelist  was  looked  upon  by  the 
court  party  as  disloyal  to  the  Crown,  and  to 
appear  at  Lincoln's  Inn  for  a  peer  or  member  of 
the  Commons  was  as  bad  as  voting  against  his 
Majesty  in  Parliament.  The  King  would  sit 
freezing  at  the  empty  Haymarket  Opera,  while 
Frederick,  at  the  head  of  a  great  number  of  the 
nobility,  would  preside  over  a  much  more  festive 
company  to  listen  to  Signor  Buonicini's  warbling 
prima  donna  farther  east. 

So  Frederick  drifted  farther  and  farther  from 
his  parents.  He  appeared  at  the  levees  at  rarer 
and  rarer  intervals,  and  called  to  pay  his  respects 
to  his  mother  at  intervals  longer  still.  When  he 
did  appear  the  worst  of  motives  were  assigned  to 
his  most  simple  acts.  If  the  Queen  were  ill  he 
only  called  to  gloat  over  her  state,  and  to  calcu- 

59 


IN   THE   DAYS   OF  THE   GEORGES 

late  how  soon  her  cough  would  carry  her  off;  if 
he  sought  the  King's  presence  it  was  only  to  court 
rebuff  of  which  to  make  an  additional  grievance 
outside.  One  may  read  pages  of  these  suspicions 
solemnly  recorded  by  Hervey,  of  head-waggings 
between  Queen,  courtier  and  minister  in  order  to 
place  Frederick  at  a  disadvantage,  and  give  the 
very  worst  of  appearances  to  everything  he  did  or 
said  or  thought.  At  length,  in  1734,  Frederick,  at 
the  age  of  twenty-seven,  feeling  the  uncertainties 
of  his  position  heavy  upon  him,  resolved  to  make 
a  personal  appeal  to  the  King.  He  appeared  one 
morning  accordingly  at  the  King's  apartments  in 
St.  James's  quite  suddenly  and  without  notice  of 
any  sort,  and  requested  an  audience  of  his 
Majesty.  His  Majesty,  after  consultation  with 
Walpole,  graciously  permitted  his  son  to  enter. 
Frederick  had  three  requests  to  lay  at  the  royal 
feet.  He  prayed  to  be  allowed  to  serve  a  cam- 
paign on  the  Rhine;  to  be  allowed  an  increased 
revenue,  for  he  was  grievously  in  debt ;  and  lastly 
to  be  provided  with  a  wife  of  a  suitable  rank  in 
order  to  fill  the  desolate  places  of  his  heart  an'd 
household.  The  requests  seem  reasonable  to  us, 
but  they  appeared  otherwise  to  his  Majesty.  To 
the  first  two  he  deigned  no  reply,  as  to  the  last,  he 
intimated  that  it  should  be  taken  into  consideration 
when  the  Prince  "should  behave  more  respect- 
fully to  his  mother."  The  whole  interview,  it 
appears  from  Hervey,  was  put  down  to  the  male- 
volent inspiration  of  the  opposition,  with  a  certain 

60 


A   ROYAL  FEUD   AND   ITS   VICTIM 

cornet  of  horse,  young  Mr.  William  Pitt,  at  their 
head,  and  as  such  was  greatly  resented  by  their 
Majesties.  Was  ever  a  royal  prince  in  so  hopeless 
a  position  ? 

The  King,  however,  bore  the  matter  of  the  de- 
sired princess  in  mind,  and  on  one  of  his  visits  to 
Hanover  looked  about  for  a  young  lady  worthy 
of  the  distinguished  position  of  wife  to  the  son 
of  whose  dignity  he  was  so  careful.  This  fortun- 
ate damsel  turned  out  to  be  the  young  Princess 
Augusta,  daughter  of  Frederic  Duke  of  Saxe 
Gotha,  and  although  at  present  nothing  had  been 
proposed  in  England,  George  practically  brought 
that  young  lady  back  for  the  Prince  in  his  pocket, 
on  his  return  from  Hanover  in  October  of  1735. 
All  the  historians  are  agreed  that  his  Majesty 
came  back  in  a  very  ill  temper.  As  a  matter  of 
fact,  he  had  been  love-making  on  his  own  account, 
and  was  very  sore  at  having  to  leave  the  object  of 
his  affections,  a  young  German  lady  by  the  name 
of  Madame  de  Walmoden.  There  had  been  a 
great  banquet  and  leave-taking  at  Herrenhausen, 
at  which  the  King  swore  faithfully  to  return  in 
the  following  May,  and  the  lady  had  risen  and 
pledged  that  happy  date  in  a  bumper.  But  those 
six  months  of  waiting  were  not  at  all  to  the  King's 
taste,  and  he  came  back  to  England  in  the  most 
awful  of  rages.  He  fell  foul  of  everybody,  from 
the  Queen  downwards.  Her  Majesty  was  accused 
of  "  always  stuffing  herself  "  when  he  saw  her  take 
her  chocolate;  the  Duke  of  Cumberland  was 

61 


IN   THE   DAYS   OF  THE   GEORGES 

abused  because  he  stood  awkwardly ;  the  Princess 
Caroline  for  growing  fat.  Nothing  in  England 
was  right  for  him.  No  Englishman  knew  how  to 
come  into  a  room,  no  Englishwoman  how  to  dress 
herself ;  no  English  cook  could  dress  a  dinner,  no 
English  player  act,  no  English  coachman  drive, 
no  English  jockey  ride,  no  English  horse  was  fit  to 
be  ridden  or  driven;  while  at  Hanover  perfection 
reigned  in  every  aspect  of  life.  His  ministers  and 
secretaries  of  state  were  scoundrels  or  puppets,  and 
as  for  his  Majesty's  bishops,  they  were  "a  set  of 
black  canting,  hypocritical  rascals."  Hervey,  who 
reports  these  megrims  of  the  love-smitten  George, 
owned  to  a  friendship  with  Bishop  Hoadley; 
;'Then,  my  lord,"  says  his  Majesty,  "you  have  a 
great  puppy  and  a  very  dull  fellow  and  a  great 
rascal  for  your  friend ;  a  canting,  hypocritical  knave 
to  be  crying  the  kingdom  of  Christ  at  the  same 
time  that  he,  as  Christ's  ambassador,  receives  six 
or  seven  thousand  a  year."  Hervey  notes  that  the 
only  member  of  the  family  to  escape  the  King's 
wrath  was  Frederick  himself,  but  he  owed  this 
immunity  to  the  fact  that  the  King  never  spoke 
of  him.  He  would  never  talk  of  him  directly,  but 
managed  to  get  in  an  oblique  buffet  on  occasion. 
He  would  remark,  for  instance,  how  often  worthy 
fathers  had  unworthy  sons ;  a  brave  father  would 
have  a  son  a  poltroon ;  a  father  very  honest  would 
have  a  son  a  great  knave;  a  father  would  be  a 
man  of  truth  and  his  son  a  great  liar;  as  who 
should  say  what  a  pitiful  tragedy  of  that  very 

62 


A  ROYAL   FEUD  AND   ITS  VICTIM 

kind  was  un'der  his  hearer's  nose  at  St.  James's. 
At  other  times  he  would  abuse  Frederick  in 
effigy,  as  it  were.  He  went  to  the  play  and  saw 
Henry  IV .,  in  which  he  admitted  there  were  some 
very  g6od  players,  "but  as  for  the  Prince  of 
Wales,  he  must  own  he  never  saw  so  awkward  a 
fellow  and  so  mean  a  looking  scoundrel  in  his 
life."  So  the  winter  went  on  with  pain  and  tribu- 
lation for  all  who  came  in  contact  with  this  sore- 
headed  monarch. 

It  was  not  till  February  that  he  vouchsafed  any 
information  to  Frederick  as  to  his  designs  for  his 
marriage.  He  then  sent  five  members  of  the 
council  to  impart  the  news  to  the  Prince,  who 
made  answer,  "  with  great  decency,  duty  and  pro- 
priety, that  whoever  his  Majesty  thought  a  proper 
match  for  his  son  would  be  agreeable  to  him."  So 
Lord  De  la  Warr  was  duly  sent  over  to  demand 
the  Princess  in  proper  terms  of  her  brother,  the 
reigning  Duke.  The  preparations  for  this  em- 
bassy, and  the  subsequent  arrangements  for  the 
projected  marriage,  of  course,  consumed  some 
little  time,  when  King  George  took  the  occasion 
to  declare  in  set  terms  to  the  Queen  and  the 
ministers  that  if  matters  should  not  be  arranged 
before  April  was  out,  the  wedding  should  either 
be  put  off  to  the  following  winter  or  should  take 
place  without  his  own  august  assistance,  "for  set 
out  for  Hanover  as  soon  as  Parliament  had  risen 
he  positively  would."  The  Queen  urged  the  im- 
portance of  not  irritating  the  bishops  by  hurrying 

63 


them  in  some  Church  matter  then  before  Parlia- 
ment. "  I  am  sick  to  death  of  all  this  foolish 
stuff,"  replied  the  King,  "and  wish  with  all  my 
heart  that  the  devil  may  take  your  bishops,  and 
the  devil  take  your  minister,  and  the  devil  take 
the  Parliament,  and  the  devil  take  the  whole 
island,  provided  I  can  get  out  of  it  and  go  to  Han- 
over." Such  was  the  mood  for  six  months  of  this 
elderly  Cupid  dying  for  his  Psyche. 

His  Majesty's  turbulence,  perhaps,  hastened 
matters,  at  any  rate  news  reached  London  on  Sun- 
day the  25th  of  April  that  Lord  De  la  Warr  had 
at  length  reached  Greenwich  with  the  Princess, 
where  Frederick  hurried  to  meet  his  bride.  He 
was  charmed  with  the  natural  graces  of  a  young 
girl  of  seventeen,  with  the  freshness  and  modest 
simplicity  which  captivated  all  who  saw  her.  The 
young  girl  came  from  her  school-room  unattended 
by  a  single  lady,  knew  no  soul  in  the  country 
where  her  future  lot  was  cast,  could  speak  no  word 
of  its  language.  And  yet  her  ingenuousness,  her 
obvious  good-nature  and  wish  to  please,  her 
natural  good  breeding  softened  every  heart  and 
silenced  every  envious  tongue.  Even  the  King 
and  Queen  were  touched  with  the  natural  courtesy 
which  urged  the  young  girl  to  throw  herself  at  full 
length  at  their  feet  at  the  presentation  at  St. 
James's;  wonder  of  all,  Horace  Walpole  forgot 
to  be  captious,  and  Hervey  laid  aside  his  sneer  in 
writing  of  th*e  young  Princess.  The  Queen 
seemed  affected  by  the  circumstances,  and  was  a 

64 


A    ROYAL   FEUD   AND  ITS   VICTIM 

little  less  ungracious  to  her  son.  There  was  little 
time  allowed  for  any  wooing,  a  few  trips  on  the 
water  by  the  lovers,  a  meal  or  two  eaten  more  or 
less  in  public,  which  interested  the  good  British 
people,  and  then  the  ceremony,  with  its  four  Lady 
Carolines  to  attend  the  Princess,  its  drums  and 
trumpets,  its  salvoes  of  artillery  to  announce  the 
joyful  news  to  the  lieges,  its  banquets  and  its  ad- 
dresses in  Parliament.  Young  Mr.  Pitt  was  so 
eloquent  in  the  Commons  upon  the  virtues  of  the 
son,  and,  by  implication,  so  insulting  to  the  father, 
that  he  incurred  the  King's  lasting  enmity,  and  at 
the  end  of  the  session  was  broke.  Frederick  got 
his  allowance  increased  to  ,£50,000,  and  King 
George,  after  admonishing  him  that  where  the 
Queen  resided,  there  must  the  Prince  and  his 
bride  pitch  their  own  tent,  again  set  out  for  his 
seat  of  delight  at  Herrenhausen  and  his  Wal- 
moden,  just  in  time  to  arrive  on  the  auspicious 
29th  of  May. 

Frederick's  married  life  thus  began  with  only 
indifferent  promise  of  any  cordial  relations  be- 
tween his  own  and  the  paternal  household,  and 
it  cannot  be  said  that  his  own  conduct  contributed 
to  any  improvement.  He  was  sore  at  being  left 
out  of  the  regency,  at  being  a  virtual  prisoner 
under  the  Queen's  eye,  at  the  withholding  of  his 
rightful  income,  and  he  showed  his  soreness  in  a 
variety  of  petty  ways.  The  Queen  set  out  for 
Richmond  the  morning  the  King  left  for  Han- 
over ;  Frederick  refused  to  follow  her  on  the  score 

65 


IN  THE   DAYS   OF  THE   GEORGES 

of  the  Princess's  illness — measles,  a  rash,  a  great 
cold,  as  he  variously  reported  it.     Her  Majesty 
posted  up  from  Richmond  with  her  daughters  to 
see  her  daughter-in-law,  but  that  lady  keeping  her 
bed  in  a  darkened  room,  her  Majesty  had  to 
return  to  Richmond  little  the  wiser  as  to  the  true 
state  of  her  health.    Frederick  would  come  late  to 
the  council,  the  Princess  late  to  chapel,  all  to  the 
intense  annoyance  of  the  Queen,  who  was  con- 
stantly on  the  look-out  for  matter  of  offence,  as 
Hervey  makes  quite  clear.    The  Princess,  still,  be 
it  remembered,  a  young  girl,  would  amuse  herself 
by  dressing  .and  undressing  a  doll ;    the  Queen 
begged  she  should  discontinue  the  process  be- 
cause it  made   the   sentries   laugh,  who  saw  it 
through  the  palace  window.     After  entertaining 
the  young  couple  at  dinner,  the  Queen  would 
ostentationsly  yawn  at  Lord  Hervey,  and  protest 
that  she  was  so  fatigued  at  the  silly  gaiety  of  her 
son  and  the  stupidities  of  her  daughter-in-law 
"that  she  felt  more  tired  than  if  she  had  carried 
them  both  round  the  garden  on  her  back."     All 
this,  and  more  of  the  same  sort,  Hervey  put  down 
in  his  record  to  the  prejudice,  as  he  hoped,  of  the 
Prince,  but  he  unwittingly  did  a  greater  injury  to 
his  patrons  by  exposing  the  spirit  which  animated 
Frederick's  family  in  their  smallest  dealings  with 
him.    Frederick,  at  the  age  of  thirty,  in  fact,  was 
treated  like  a  child,  and  he  resented  the  treat- 
ment in  a  rather  childish  manner.     That  seems 
to  be  the  worst  indictment  to  be  drawn  against 

66 


A  ROYAL   FEUD  AND   ITS   VICTIM 

him  for  his  part  in  the  puerilities  of  this  petty 
dispute. 

Meanwhile  King  George,  taking  his  pleasure  at 
Herrenhausen  with  the  Walmoden,  was  becoming 
highly  unpopular  with  his  subjects  in  England; 
the  streets  were  full  of  ribald  jokes  at  his  gal- 
lantries, the  broadsheets  with  the  choicest  produc- 
tions of  the  makers  of  indecent  ballads.  Even 
the  precincts  of  the  palace  at  St.  James's  were 
profaned  by  the  efforts  of  the  disloyal  wits.  One 
of  these  traitorous  effusions,  not  at  all  lacking  in 
point,  was  found  pasted  on  the  palace  gate  :  "  Lost 
or  strayed  out  of  this  house,  a  man  who  has  left 
a  wife  and  six  children  on  the  parish.  Whoever 
will  give  any  tidings  of  him  to  the  Churchwardens 
of  St.  James's,  so  as  he  may  be  got  again,  shall 
receive  four  shillings  and  sixpence  reward.  N.B. 
— This  reward  will  not  be  increased,  nobody 
judging  him  to  deserve  a  crown."  George  at 
length,  after  a  six  months'  honeymoon  with  the 
Walmoden,  judged  it  time  to  return  to  St.  James's, 
and  set  out  in  a  great  hurry  accordingly  at  the  end 
of  November. 

There  were  some  very  exciting  circumstances 
attending  his  return.  Sir  Charles  Wager  com- 
manded the  royal  yacht,  and  awaited  his  Majesty 
at  Helvoetsluys  with  a  considerable  squadron  of 
British  men-o'-war  as  escort.  The  King  arrived  at 
that  port  and  chafed  at  the  delay  caused  by  con- 
trary winds,  which  at  length  increased  to  a  gale  of 
uncommon  violence.  Sir  Charles  said  it  was  unsafe 
E  2  67 


IN   THE   DAYS   OF  THE   GEORGES 

to  put  to  sea.  "  I'm  not  afraid,"  said  the  King. 
"  I  am,"  said  the  sailor.  "  I'd  rather  be  twelve 
hours  at  sea  than  twenty-four  at  Helvoetsluys," 
replied  his  Majesty."  "  You  need  not  reckon  on 
twelve,  Sir,"  rejoined  the  sailor,  "  four  will  do  your 
business."  "  Set  sail,"  replied  the  King.  "  Well, 
Sir,"  said  the  sailor,  "  you  can  oblige  me  to  go,  but 
I  can  make  you  come  back  again."  So  it  proved. 
iThe  fleet  was  scattered,  several  ships  cast  away 
with  many  lives  lost ;  news  reached  London  of  the 
disaster  without  any  tidings  of  the  royal  yacht, 
and  England,  for  a  period  of  twelve  hours,  be- 
lieved that  her  King  had  perished  in  the  North 
Sea.  Only  later  came  the  tidings  that  Wager  had 
navigated  the  yacht  back  to  Helvoetsluys,  after  a 
tossing  which  made  "his  Majesty  as  tame  as  any 
about  him,"  and  the  tamed  Majesty  accordingly 
waited  five  weeks  at  the  Dutch  port  before  he 
landed  safe  at  Harwich  early  in  January  of  1737. 
He  was  quite  subdued,  it  was  noticed,  was  civil 
to  the  Queen  and  his  daughters,  and  even  kissed 
Frederick. 

These  favourable  signs,  however,  lasted  for  a 
short  time  only;  Frederick  wanted  money,  and 
having  tried  his  Majesty  on  a  former  occasion  with 
ill-success,  he  committed  the  unpardonable  sin 
of  going  to  his  Majesty's  opposition  for  assistance 
in  his  needs.  He  chose  the  exact  moment,  too, 
when  the  King,  upset  by  the  fatigues  of  his  tem- 
pestuous voyage,  was  lying  by  for  a  bit.  Frederick 
had  begun  canvassing  among  the  anti-court  peers, 

68 


A   ROYAL  FEUD   AND   ITS   VICTIM 

and  the  rebellious  and  independent  members  of 
the  Commons ;  one  of  his  friends  tried  to  engage 
Mr.  Henry  Fox's  interest,  Mr.  Fox's  brother 
Stephen  was  Lord  Hervey's  most  intimate  friend, 
and  naturally  set  off  in  haste  to  my  lord  with  the 
news.  My  lord,  full  of  his  subject,  met  the  Queen 
coming  out  of  the  sick  chamber;  her  Majesty 
would  not  believe  it.  Let  Lord  Weymouth  see 
Sir  Robert  at  once,  meanwhile  not  a  word  to  the 
King.  Sir  Robert  confirmed  the  news,  and  there 
followed  a  most  portentous  conference  between 
Queen,  courtier  and  minister.  Her  Majesty  was 
quite  frightened.  Here  was  the  King  ill,  certainly 
unpopular  on  account  of  those  dreadful  doings  at 
Hanover,  and  Frederick  chooses  this  moment,  of 
all  others,  to  advertise  the  family  quarrels  and 
play  into  the  very  hands  of  the  Jacobites.  Lord 
Scarborough  must  go  and  dissuade  him  from  so 
undutiful  a  course. 

Lord  Scarborough  went,  but  Frederick  was  proof 
against  his  eloquence.  "  He  did  not  want  to  dis- 
tress his  father,"  he  said,  "  but  he  and  his  advisers 
were  of  opinion  that  a  yearly  allowance  of 
£100,000  was  due  to  him  by  an  Act  of  Parliament 
already  passed,  and  he  saw  no  great  crime  in  going 
to  that  body  to  ask  them  to  expound  their  own 
instrument.  It  was  not  his  fault,  but  those  who 
drove  him  to  it;  finally,  the  business  was  out  of 
of  his  hands  already,  and  he  could  do  nothing  in 
the  matter." 

Hervey  records  that  at  about  the  time  of  Fred- 
69 


IN   THE   DAYS   OF  THE  GEORGES 

erick's  marriage  his  mother  and  sister  were  in- 
clined to  relent  a  little  in  their  hostility  to  the 
Prince,  to  find  excuses  for  him  against  the  cour- 
tier's attacks,  who  never  left  him  unpersecuted  for 
a  single  day;  "Fred  was  not  such  a  fool  as  one 
took  him  for;  could  be  very  amusing,  was  even 
generous  at  times,  and  his  heart,  like  his  head, 
was  both  good  and  bad."  Hervey  would  not 
admit  it  even  to  the  Queen  and  Princesses,  and 
certainly  came  to  his  justification  by  those  ladies 
at  this  distressful  moment.  The  rancour  exhibited 
by  the  Queen  against  her  son  in  Hervey's  narra- 
tive is  amazing,  and  it  is  easy  to  fix  the  high-water 
mark  of  her  resentment  at  the  moment  when  she 
learned  that  Frederick  had  made  a  public  move- 
ment against  the  restraints  of  his  position.  "  Her 
invectives  against  her  son,"  says  Hervey,  "were 
incessant  and  of  the  strongest  kind,  and  more 
tears  flowed  on  this  occasion  that  I  ever  saw  her 
shed  on  all  others  put  together.  They  neither  of 
them  made  much  ceremony,  of  wishing  a  hundred 
times  a  day  that  the  Prince  might  drop  down  dead 
of  an  apoplexy,  the  Queen  cursing  the  hour  of  his 
birth,  the  Princess  Caroline,  declaring  she  grudged 
him  every  hour  he  continued  to  breathe.  He  loved 
nothing  but  money  and  his  own  nauseous  self ;  was 
the  greatest  liar  that  ever  spoke,  would  put  one 
arm  about  a  body's  neck  and  stab  him  with  the 
other."  One  begins  to  doubt,  after  reading  pages 
of  this  sort  of  invective,  whether  Queen  Caroline 
was  so  happy  in  her  vice-chamberlain  after  all. 

70 


^^/?^^^^,^%^^^^^ 

yv _ 


Queen  Caroline  as  Princess  of  Wales 


A  ROYAL    FEUD   AND    ITS   VICTIM 

Nothing  could  stop  Frederick,  however;  the 
whole  Cabinet  took  a  written  message  to  him  from 
the  King,  some  half-dozen  dukes  and  earls  among 
them.  He  received  them  very  politely,  thanked 
his  Majesty  for  any  instance  of  goodness  to  him 
and  the  Princess;  but  the  matter  of  his  allowance 
was  really  out  of  his  hands,  and  he  must  leave  it 
with  his  advisers.  So  the  Pitts,  Pulteneys,  and 
lesser  lights  of  the  Prince's  party  were  very 
eloquent  in  the  Commons;  Walpole  replied  not 
very  convincingly,  but  found  a  much  stronger 
argument  in  the  lobbies,  where  he  made  certain  of 
a  majority  of  thirty  votes  against  Frederick.  The 
Queen  naively  admitted  to  Lord  Hervey  that  it 
cost  much  less  than  was  expected,  the  King  only 
had  to  expend  about  £900  in  bribes,  and  as  he 
saved  a  clear  £50,000  a  year  by  the  transaction, 
it  was  eminently  profitable.  Carteret  took  the 
matter  to  the  Lords,  where  the  Prince  was  rather 
less  successful  than  in  the  Commons.  So  Fred- 
erick remained  a  pensioner  at  the  King's  pleasure, 
and  the  breach  between  himself  and  his  parents 
yawned  wider  than  ever. 

It  was  in  July  of  this  same  year  1737,  that 
Frederick,  addressing  his  mother  by  letter  in  the 
French  tongue,  acquainted  her,  as  in  duty  bound, 
with  the  interesting  news  that  his  princess  had 
hopes  of  a  family.  No  date  was  mentioned  at 
which  the  happy  event  was  likely  to  take  place, 
and  it  is  perhaps  significant  of  the  way  in  which 
her  son  and  his  wife  were  regarded  by  the  Queen 


IN   THE   DAYS   OF   THE   GEORGES 

that  both  then  and  afterwards  she  professed  in- 
credulity of  the  news.  When,  however,  the  matter 
was  beyond  doubt,  Frederick  was  the  subject  of 
the  most  odious  suspicions  at  court.  Both  King, 
Queen  and  minister  all  credited  the  Prince  with 
the  infamous  intention  of  imposing  a  changeling 
on  the  nation.  The  thing  would  be  incredible, 
had  not  Hervey  placed  it  beyond  any  doubt.  It 
was  resolved  that  the  King  should  send  a  message 
to  the  Prince  intimating  his  pleasure  that  the  Prin- 
cess should  lie  in  at  Hampton  Court,  and  the 
Queen  expressed  her  positive  intention  of  attend- 
ing her  daughter-in-law  during  her  illness.  "  I 
will  be  sure  it  is  her  child,"  she  said,  and  she 
emphasized  her  suspicions  in  the  plainest  way  to 
Walpole,  who  had  shown  no  hurry  in  drafting  the 
King's  message,  by  saying,  "  Sir  Robert,  we  shall 
be  catched;  he  will  remove  her  from  Hampton 
Court  before  he  receives  any  orders,  and  will  say 
afterwards  that  he  talked  so  publicly  of  his  inten- 
tions he  concluded  if  the  King  had  not  approved 
of  them,  he  should  have  heard  something  of 
it."  'Walpole  replied  there  was  plenty  of  time, 
as  the  event  was  not  yet  expected.  So  the 
message  was  delayed,  and,  indeed,  never  went 
at  all. 

All  this  must  be  borne  in  mind  in  what  followed. 
On  a  Sunday,  at  the  end  of  the  same  month,  the 
rather  dull  court  of  George  the  Second  at  Hamp- 
ton had  dispersed  as  usual;  the  King  had  had 
his  game  of  commerce,  the  Queen  had  finished 

72 


A  ROYAL  FEUD  AND   ITS    VICTIM 

hers  at  quadrille,  Lord  Hervey  and  the  Princess 
Caroline  their  cribbage,  and  all  were  in  bed 
before  eleven  o'clock  had  struck.  At  half- 
past  one  Mrs.  Tichburne,  the  woman  of  the 
bedchamber,  woke  the  Queen  by  knocking  at 
her  bedroom  door.  "  Is  the  house  on  fire  ? " 
inquired  her  startled  Majesty.  "  No,  Ma'am," 
replied  Mrs.  Tichburne ;  "  but  the  Princess  is  taken 
ill."  "  My  God  !  my  nightgown,"  says  the  Queen ; 
"  I'll  go  to  her  at  once."  "  Your  nightgown, 
Madam,"  rejoined  Mrs.  Tichburne,  "and  your 
coaches,  too ;  the  Princess  is  at  St.  James's."  "  Are 
you  mad,  or  are  you  asleep,  my  good  Tichburne  ? 
You  dream."  But  good  Tichburne  insisted, 
and  the  King,  awake  by  this  time,  joined  in.  "  You 
see  now,  with  all  your  wisdom,"  said  his  Majesty, 
"how  they  have  outwitted  us.  This  is  all  your 
fault.  There  is  a  false  child  will  be  put  upon  you, 
and  how  will  you  answer  it  to  all  your  children? 
This  has  been  fine  care  and  fine  management  for 
your  son  William.  He  will  be  mightily  obliged 
to  you."  The  Queen  dressed  in  haste,  collected 
the  Duke  of  Grafton,  Lord  Hervey,  her  two 
daughters,  and  Lord  Essex  as  a  messenger  to 
come  back  witK  news  to  the  King,  and  set  off  for 
St,  James's,  where  the  party  arrived  at  four  o'clock 
in  the  morning. 

Frederick,  indeed,  had  stolen  a  march  upon 
them,  and  this  was  his  answer  to  their  suspicions 
and  innuendoes.  He  met  his  mother  at  the  top  of 
the  staircase  and  informed  her  that  a  daughter  had 

73 


IN   THE   DAYS   OF   THE   GEORGES 

been  vouchsafed  to  him.  She  went  to  see  the 
Princess,  supposed  she  had  suffered  greatly,  was 
assured  that  that  was  not  the  case,  kissed  the  child, 
and  went  back  to  Lord  Hervey's  apartment  in  the 
palace  to  drink  a  cup  of  chocolate,  saying,  with  a 
wink  at  that  nobleman,  "  You  need  not  fear  my 
drinking  anything  on  that  side  of  the  house,"  as  if 
to  intimate  that  there  might  be  a  danger  of  poison 
in  her  son's  household.  "  If  instead  of  this 
poor  ugly  she-mouse,"  she  added,  "there  had 
been  a  brave,  fat,  jolly  boy,  I  should  not  have 
been  cured  of  my  suspicions;  I  should  have 
gone  about  his  house  like  a  mad  woman,  and 
insisted  on  knowing  what  chairman's  brat  he  had 
bought." 

Frederick  has  been  much  blamed  for  this  trans- 
action, and,  if  it  were  altogether  intentional, 
nothing  in  the  world  could  excuse  him  for  having 
placed  his  young  wife  in  such  danger  by  that  mid- 
night journey  to  London.  But  that  is  by  no  means 
certain.  He  and  the  Princess,  who  had  been  twice 
deceived  by  false  alarms  during  the  previous 
week,  were  undoubtedly  taken  by  surprise,  and  it 
seems  probable  that  Frederick  posted  off  in  a 
flurry  where  he  judged  the  best  medical  advice 
was  to  be  had,  and  the  Ministers  of  State  proper  to 
the  ceremony  most  easily  summoned.  Upon  start- 
ing he  sent  messengers  to  the  Lord  Chancellor,  the 
Archbishop  of  Canterbury,  the  President  of  the 
Council  and  the  Lord  Privy  Seal,  and  the  two 
last  were  at  his  wife's  bedside  at  St.  James's. 

74 


A  ROYAL  FEUD  AND   ITS   VICTIM 

Above  all,  Frederick  had  been  insulted  by  the 
odious  insinuation  that  he  contemplated  treason 
to  the  King  and  the  nation  by  imposing  a  change- 
ling upon  them,  and,  apart  from  the  danger  in 
which  he  placed  his  wife  (which,  if  he  realized  it, 
was  indeed  unpardonable),  his  conduct  is  perhaps 
deserving  of  less  reprobation  than  that  of  the 
court  of  which  it  was  the  result.  But  from  all 
points  of  view,  it  must  be  confessed,  it  was  a  sorry 
business. 

The  breach  now  was  irreparable.  The  Queen 
called  once  more  to  see  the  Princess;  the  Prince 
attended  her  to  her  carriage  in  the  courtyard  of 
St.  James's,  and  incurred  the  charge  of  hypocrisy 
by  kneeling  in  the  mud  to  kiss  her  hand,  in  order, 
so  she  said,  "to  appear  as  the  dutiful  son  in 
public."  There  followed  another  council  of  the 
King,  Queen  and  minister,  and  Frederick  was 
forbidden  to  come  to  court,  or  to  ^ee  his  outraged 
parents  again.  It  was  also  intimated  to  him  that 
so  soon  as  the  Princess's  condition  would  admit  of 
it,  he  and  his  belongings  were  to  be  removed  from 
St.  James's.  History,  in  fact,  repeated  itself,  and 
George  and  his  son  parted  at  St.  James's  on  much 
the  same  terms  as  George  and  his  father  twenty 
years  earlier.  The  foreign  ministers  were  notified 
that  it  would  be  agreeable  to  the  King  if  they  for- 
bore waiting  on  the  Prince,  and  the  native  nobility 
and  gentry  were  told  in  plain  terms  that  whoever 
went  to  the  Prince  would  not  be  admitted  at 
court.  Frederick  was  deprived  of  his  guard  of 

75 


IN    THE   DAYS   OF  THE   GEORGES 

honour,  and  upon  the  Princess's  convalescence 
went  off  to  Leicester  Fields,  the  "  Pouting  Place 
of  princes."  He  was  forbidden  to  remove  any 
furniture  from  the  palace,  even  chests  or  boxes. 
'''  They  can  hardly  carry  away  their  clothes  like 
linen  in  a  basket,"  suggested  Lord  Hervey. 
"  Why  not?  "  replied  the  King ;  "  a  basket  is  good 
enough  for  them."  So  Frederick  left  the  paternal 
roof,  and  the  King  said,  "  Thank  God,  the  puppy 
is  out  of  my  house,"  and  there  was  a  final  discus- 
sion of  the  Prince's  enormities  between  his  parents 
and  Lord  Hervey.  His  lordship  took  the  occa- 
sion to  remind  the  Queen  that  she  had  defended 
Frederick  against  his  aspersions  so  recently  only 
as  the  date  of  his  marriage.  "  My  dear  lord," 
replied  her  Majesty,  "I  will  give  it  under  my 
hand,  if  you  are  in  any  fear  of  my  relapsing,  that 
my  dear  firstborn  is  the  greatest  ass,  and  the 
greatest  liar,  and  the  greatest  canaille,  and  the 
greatest  beast  in  the  whole  world,  and  I  most 
heartily  wish  he  was  out  of  it."  That  might 
almost  be  considered  her  Majesty's  valedictory 
address  to  her  son  and  heir;  it  was  spoken  in 
October  of  1737,  and  she  never  saw  him  again,  for 
on  the  2Oth  of  the  following  month  she  was  herself 
dead. 

We  must  not  recall  at  any  length  that  dreadful 
'deathbed  scene  of  Queen  Caroline,  which,  as 
related  with  painful  minuteness  by  Hervey,  is 
one  of  the  best  known  pages  of  court  history. 
Frederick  sent  a  dutiful  inquiry  as  to  his  mother's 


A   ROYAL   FEUD   AND   ITS   VICTIM 

illness ;  the  King  forbade  him  to  make  any  other, 
and  so  natural  an  act  on  the  part  of  the  son  was 
twisted  by  the  court  and  their  scribe  into  a  desire 
to  gloat  over  the  last  moments  of  his  mother.  So 
Frederick  was  denied  the  blessing  which  his 
brother  and  sisters  received,  and  the  dying  Queen 
had  no  thought  for  her  eldest-born.  She  died,  as 
she  had  lived,  devoted  to  her  husband;  while  that 
extraordinary  monarch,  though  beside  himself 
with  grief,  managed  to  display  in  a  sentence  the 
whole  philosophy  of  his  union  with  the  wife  whom 
he  still  dearly  loved.  In  almost  her  last  moment 
the  Queen  urged  him  to  marry  again.  "  Non, 
j'aurai  des  maitresses,"  blubbered  George.  "  Mon 
Dieu  !  "  sighed  the  Queen ;  "  cela  n'empeche  pas." 
Among  the  greatest  reasons  for  doubting  the 
justice  of  Lord  Hervey's  virulent  indictment  of 
Frederick  Prince  of  Wales  is  the  fact  that  with 
the  death  of  Queen  Caroline,  when  that  nobleman's 
dismal  story  ceased,  the  chief  record  of  Frederick's 
enormities  comes  to  an  end.  When  Frederick 
came  to  die,  Horace  Walpole  recited  his  faults 
with  an  unsparing  pen,  but  admitted,  however 
grudgingly,  some  corresponding  virtues.  In  such 
more  impartial  testimony  as  exists  upon  Frederick's 
doings  during  the  fourteen  years  he  had  still  to 
live,  there  is  little  recorded  against  him.  He  was 
undoubtedly  popular,  even  Walpole  admits  as 
much,  though  he  assigns  his  favour  with  the  public 
to  their  hatred  of  his  brother,  the  Duke  of  Cum- 
berland. With  the  disappearance,  too,  of  Queen 

77 


IN   THE   DAYS   OF   THE   GEORGES 

Caroline  and  her  henchman  Hervey  from  the 
court,  those  acute  and  irreconcilable  differences 
of  personality  of  father  and  son  were  no  longer 
subjected  to  a  perpetual  chafing,  and  there  was  a 
gratifying  absence  of  those  scandalous  and  in- 
decent bickerings  of  which  Hervey  was  at  once  the 
promoter  and  the  historian.  Frederick  had  a 
court  of  his  own,  at  which  the  chiefs  of  the  opposi- 
tion gathered,  and  which,  politically,  was  opposed 
tooth  and  nail  to  the  court  party  under  Walpole. 
Here,  at  different  times,  gathered  Pulteney,  Car- 
teret,  Dodington,  Bolingbroke,  Chesterfield, 
Lyttleton  and  Pitt,  with  many  politicians  of  less 
note,  and  from  Frederick's  court  frequent  alarums 
and  excursions  were  made  upon  the  policy  of  the 
Minister  by  one  or  other  of  those  gentlemen.  As 
a  party,  perhaps,  this  opposition  left  little  impress 
upon  national  affairs,  but  individuals  among 
Frederick's  political  advisers  later  became  national 
forces  in  themselves,  the  mighty  Pitt,  for  example, 
who  graduated  in  politics  in  the  Prince's  party,  and 
a  later  recruit,  Lord  Bute,  whose  influence  over 
Frederick's  son  in  the  next  reign  bore  such  bitter 
fruit  for  his  country.  But  after  Walpole's  fall  in 
1742,  there  were  distinctly  improved  relations  be- 
tween the  King  and  his  son.  George,  it  was  said, 
was  moved  by  the  dangers  of  the  Rebellion  of  the 
'45  to  seek  a  healing  of  the  family  quarrel ;  an 
agent  of  his  Majesty  suggested  a  submissive  letter 
from  the  Prince,  which  Frederick,  after  some 
demur,  consented  to  write,  and,  to  the  joy  of  the 

78 


A  ROYAL  FEUD   AND   ITS   VICTIM 

town,  the  Prince  appeared  at  the  next  Drawing- 
Room,  and  kissed  his  Majesty's  hand.  Wonder 
of  all,  there  was  a  mingling  of  the  two  hostile 
courts  on  this  joyful  occasion,  and  there  followed 
a  visit  by  both  King  and  Prince  to  the  Duchess  of 
Norfolk's  reception  through  illuminated  streets 
lighted  by  bonfires.  It  was  understood  that  there 
was  an  increased  allowance.  "  He  will  now  have 
enough  money,"  writes  Horace  Walpole,  "  to  tune 
up  Glover  and  Thomson  and  Dodsley,"  which  is 
Horace's  pleasant  way  of  alluding  to  Frederick's 
patronage  of  those  poets.  There  were  even  re- 
views and  pageants  "to  gladden  the  heart  of 
David  and  Absalom,"  and  a  journey  by  river  by 
Frederick  and  his  princess  to  the  spot  of  their  first 
meeting  at  Greenwich. 

But  it  is  to  be  feared  that  there  was  little  real 
reconciliation.  Frederick's  creditable  wish  to  go 
the  campaign  against  the  Stuart  rebels  in  Scotland 
was  rebuffed,  and  the  command  given  to  his 
brother,  and  he  was  left  out  of  the  Regency  when 
George  and  William  went  to  the  Rhine  and  fought 
at  Dettingen.  It  is  pleasant  to  read  that  Fred- 
erick's good  offices  were  employed  on  behalf  of 
some  of  the  vanquished  insurgents;  his  supplica- 
tion is  said  to  have  saved  Lord  Cromartie,  and  to 
have  put  an  end  to  the  durance  which  Flora  Mac- 
donald  suffered  for  succouring  Prince  Charles. 
But  it  was  noticed  that  when  the  King  came  back 
to  receive  the  demonstrations  of  loyalty  which 
awaited  him  in  London,  George,  no  longer  anxious 

79 


A  ROYAL  FEUD  AND   ITS   VICTIM 

about  his  own  popularity,  was  again  distinctly  cold 
to  his  son. 

So  poor  Frederick  was  forced,  despite  himself, 
to  continue  his  role  of  useless,  unconsidered,  neg- 
lected Prince  of  Wales,  without  the  faintest  oppor- 
tunity of  displaying  whatever  qualities  of  good  or 
efficiency  might  be  latent  in  his  character.  It  was 
a  heavy  lot  for  a  man  in  a  station  so  exalted,  that 
of  the  idler  and  trifler  confined  to  the  mild  delights 
of  London  and  its  suburbs,  while  the  other  young 
men  of  his  own  station  were  making  history  all 
over  Europe.  But  there  is  little  harm  recorded 
of  Frederick  in  circumstances  which  might  have 
lent  themselves  to  serious  trouble  :  some  good 
indeed.  He  was  thoughtful  for  others,  gave 
lavishly  to  people  in  want,  like  poor  debtors  and 
maimed  soldiers,  protected  the  arts,  in  a  feeble 
way,  it  is  true,  but  with  all  good  intentions,  let  us 
hope.  He  had  a  fine  country  house  at  Cliveden 
from  1737  onwards,  where  he  patronized  Mr. 
James  Thomson,  the  poet.  Thomson  had  lost  a 
post  by  some  change  of  ministry,  and  being  good- 
naturedly  asked  by  Frederick  as  to  the  state  of 
his  affairs,  replied  with  some  humour  that  "they 
were  in  a  more  poetical  posture  than  formerly." 
So  Frederick  gave  him  a  hundred  a  year,  enough, 
as  he  said,  to  keep  him  from  starving,  but  not 
enough  to  prevent  his  working.  It  is  worthy  of 
recollection  that  "  Rule  Britannia  "  was  first  heard 
under  the  auspices  of  Frederick  at  Cliveden,  when 
Thomson  and  Mallet  produced  their  masque  of 

80 


A   ROYAL   FEUD   AND   ITS   VICTIM 

Alfred  in  1740.  Traditions  long  survived  of 
Frederick  at  that  fine  mansion  on  the  Thames,  of 
cricket  on  the  lawn,  of  the  little  theatre  in  the 
garden,  of  the  Prince's  walks  along  the  riverside, 
his  prizes  for  rowing  matches,  his  condescension 
with  labourers  and  fishermen,  with  whom  he  would 
discuss  the  mysteries  of  their  craft,  and  even  share 
a  meal  at  times.  He  was  often  seen,  too,  enjoying 
the  sights  of  the  town  with  the  lieges;  he  would 
appear  at  Bartholomew  Fair,  holding  the  little 
Prince  George  by  the  hand,  preceded  by  Mr.  Rich 
the  actor,  and  making  a  brave  show  in  his  ribbon 
and  garter  in  the  torch-light.  The  Lord  Mayor's 
show,  too,  would  attract  him ;  he  was  recognized  in 
his  incognito  by  the  members  of  the  Sadlers'  Com- 
pany, who  had  a  stand  in  front  of  their  hall  in 
Cheapside,  invited  to  take  a  place,  and  was  so 
pleased  that  he  accepted  the  mastership  of  that 
worshipful  company,  whose  hall  his  portrait  by 
Mr.  Frye  still  adorns. 

This  harmless,  if  useless,  life  continued  with 
little  variety  until  the  spring  of  1751.  On  a  cold 
afternoon  in  March  of  that  year  Frederick,  who 
had  been  to  Kew,  returned  to  Carlton  House,  and, 
changing  into  a  light  coat,  lay  on  a  sofa  near  an 
open  window  on  the  ground  floor  for  three  hours, 
caught  a  chill,  and  lay  by  for  a  few  days.  In  the 
evening  of  the  2Oth  of  March  he  was  seized  with  a 
fit  of  coughing,  which  the  doctor  expected  would 
relieve  him.  This  doctor,  indeed,  Wilmot,  had 
just  left  the  room  with  the  remark  that  the  Prince 
F  81 


JN  THE   DAYS   OF   THE   GEORGES 

was  now  sure  of  a  good  night's  rest.  The  cough 
returned,  his  valet  was  holding  him  up  in  bed, 
when  Frederick  said  suddenly,  "  Je  sens  la  mort," 
and  the  servant,  who  felt  him  shiver,  exclaimed, 
"  Good  God,  the  Prince  is  going !  "  The  Prin- 
cess, who  was  at  the  foot  of  the  bed,  snatched  up 
a  candle,  but  before  she  could  reach  his  side 
Frederick  was  dead.  He  had  been  struck  in  the 
side  by  a  tennis  ball  three  years  before,  an  im- 
posthume  had  formed,  and  its  breaking  choked 
him. 

It  was  Lord  North  who  took  the  news  to  King 
George  at  Kensington,  whom  he  found  looking 
over  a  card-table,  at  which  some  of  the  court  were 
playing.  Lord  North  whispered  his  message. 
"Dead,  is  he?"  replied  his  Majesty;  "why,  they 
told  me  he  was  better,"  and  walking  round  to 
the  Walmoden,  he  observed,  "  Countess,  Fred  is 
gone."  Never  was  a  prince  of  a  great  nation 
buried  with  so  little  ceremony;  no  one  seemed  to 
think  it  worth  while  to  make  a  fuss.  So  poor 
Frederick's  obsequies  were  attended  by  his  little 
household  alone,  no  bishop  read  the  solemn  lines 
of  the  service,  no  English  peer  walked  behind  his 
coffin,  and  his  ashes  were  laid  in  the  Abbey  without 
anthem  or  organ.  His  Princess  felt  his  loss 
acutely,  and  his  son  George  "cried  extremely," 
but  one  can  read  much  in  the  annals  of  those  times 
without  finding  any  one  else  to  mourn  him. 

The  scribes,  of  course,  were  busy  with  his 
memory,  but,  after  the  manner  of  their  kind,  were 

82 


A  ROYAL  FEUD  AND   ITS   VICTIM 

more  concerned  with  his  follies  than  his  virtues. 
The  circumstances  of  his  private  life  were  re- 
counted with  the  usual  relish,  and  much  that  was 
said  on  that  score  cannot  be  denied.  But  it  may 
at  least  be  urged  that  his  court  was  as  reputable 
as  those  of  his  father  and  grandfather.  Lady 
Archibald  Hamilton  had  the  credit  of  being  his 
mistress;  but,  as  she  had  a  family  of  ten  before 
his  acquaintance  with  her  began,  it  may  be  con- 
ceded that  the  Prince  in  this  case  took  no  advan- 
tage of  youth  and  inexperience.  Lady  Middlesex 
is  supposed  to  have  succeeded  Lady  Archibald, 
but  with  what  justice  one  neither  knows  nor  cares. 
Her  husband  was  about  the  court,  and  was  a  party 
to  whatever  arrangement  was  in  force.  It  is  quite 
possible  that  the  son,  like  the  father,  was  better 
pleased  with  the  reputation  than  with  the  reality 
of  these  alliances.  It  is  certain  that,  apart  from 
these  very  serious  failings,  Frederick  was  an  affec- 
tionate husband  and  a  good  father;  even  his 
enemy  Walpole  admitted  as  much.  Horace  re- 
corded some  characteristic  qualifications,  it  is  true, 
but  as  these  have  been  more  forcibly  set  out  by 
Hervey,  we  will  not  repeat  them  here. 

Whatever  Prince  Frederick's  faults,  it  is  cer- 
tain from  what  is  now  known  of  the  history  of 
his  family  that  he  was  never  given  the  opportunity 
of  showing  any  merit  which  might  have  been  latent 
in  his  character.  He  came  of  a  virile  race,  and 
had  Frederick  as  a  boy  been  taken  by  the  hand 
and  trained  to  the  position  he  was  one  day  to 


IN  THE  DAYS   OF  THE  GEORGES 

occupy,  it  may  well  have  been  that  he  would  not 
have  been  found  wanting.  That  system  of  ap- 
prenticeship in  statecraft,  which  produced  some 
surprising  results  in  his  own  cousin  Frederic  of 
Prussia,  was  replaced  at  the  English  court  by  a 
pitiless  suppression  which  sacrificed  the  son  to  the 
ambition  of  the  mother.  It  is  possible — probable, 
indeed — that  the  nation  profited  by  that  sacrifice ; 
it  is  all  the  more  due  to  the  memory  of  the  victim 
that  the  price  he  paid  by  a  life  of  neglect  and  con- 
tumely should  at  last  be  recognized,  and  his  name 
no  longer  be  mentioned  with  only  a  jest  or  a  sneer. 


II 

THE   ELUSIVE   QUAKERESS 


II 

THE   ELUSIVE   QUAKERESS 

IN  one  of  the  most  humorous  of  Addison's 
Spectators  we  are  shown,  with  an  abundance  of 
the  playful  banter  which  is  characteristic  of  that 
kindly  moralist,  the  difficulty  of  overtaking  a  lie 
which  has  once  got  a  good  start.  The  King  of 
France  is  reported  dead  at  a  fashionable  coffee- 
house of  the  West  End,  and  the  news  runs  like 
wildfire  through  similar  establishments  all  over 
the  town,  and  provides  the  oracles  of  a  score  of 
devout  audiences  with  matter  for  many  solemn 
utterances  delivered  amidst  the  incense  of  much 
tobacco  smoke.  The  Spectator  follows  the  news 
from  coffee-house  to  coffee-house,  and  notes  it 
taking  a  tincture  proper  to  the  interests  of  each  of 
those  famous  places  of  gathering.  The  French- 
men who  resorted  to  Giles's  were  already  proceed- 
ing to  release  their  friends  from  the  galleys,  and 
establishing  them  in  power  and  place  in  France. 
At  Jenny  Man's  "an  alert  young  fellow  cocked 
his  hat  upon  a  friend,  and  remarked,  '  Well,  Jack, 
the  old  prig's  dead  at  last ;  sharp's  the  word,  now 
or  never,  boy,  up  to  the  walls  of  Paris.' '  The 

8? 


IN   THE   DAYS   OF  THE   GEORGES 

wits  at  Wills's  were  lamenting  the  decease  of 
Boileau,  Racine  and  Corneille,  "who  would  have 
obliged  the  world  with  very  noble  elegies  on  the 
death  of  so  great  a  prince,"  and  so  eastward  from 
Nando'sto  Fish  Street^  where  a  politician  explained 
how  the  death  of  the  French  King  would  "  affect 
our  pilchards,"  and  finally  to  Cheapside,  where  "  a 
haberdasher  who  was  the  chief  oracle  of  the  estab- 
lishment called  his  admirers  to  witness  that  he  had 
declared  a  week  since  that  the  King  must  have 
been  dead,  and  that,  considering  the  late  advices, 
it  could  not  have  been  otherwise.  He  was  en- 
larging upon  this  proposition  with  great  authority 
when  there  came  in  a  gentleman  from  Garraway's 
with  the  news  that  the  King  was  in  good  health, 
and  had  gone  out  a-hunting  the  very  morning 
the  post  came  away,  upon  which  the  haberdasher 
stole  off  his  hat  that  hung  upon  a  wooden  peg 
by  him,  and  retired  to  his  shop  with  great  con- 
fusion." 

In  such  manner  does  Addison  let  his  fancy  play 
about  the  difficulty  of  refuting  a  false  statement 
which  has  been  once  fairly  launched  among  a 
credulous  public.  We  need  not  take  that  master 
of  the  ironical  method  too  literally,  but  the  general 
proposition  of  that  pleasant  paper — the  amazing 
vitality  of  a  lie  and  its  ready  acceptance  by  all 
classes  of  people  whose  credulity  it  quickens  or 
whose  interest  it  touches — holds  good.  .When  a 
particular  lie  has  an  added  flavour  of  scandal,  and 
concerns  the  life  or  conversation  of  those  in  high 

88 


THE   ELUSIVE   QUAKERESS 

places,  its  acceptance  becomes  perfectly  irresist- 
ible by  the  general  public.    There  was  once  a  lie  of 
this  quality  in  circulation,  an  examination  of  which 
seems  to  fall  within  the  scheme  of  our  undertak- 
ing.   It  concerned  the  youthful  doings  of  no  less 
a  personage  than  King  George  the  Third,  and  was 
certainly  not  lacking  in  a  scandalous  flavour.    In- 
stead of  enjoying  a  day's  vogue  in  the  coffee- 
houses of  London,  it  started  early  in  the  long 
reign  of  that  monarch,  and  met  with  a  still  growing 
acceptance  years  after  his  Majesty  was  dead;   it 
had,  in  fact,  a  career  of  nearly  a  century.     It  is 
through  such  a  period  that  we  can  now  trace  the 
story,  note  its  origin  in  an  obscure  and  scandalous 
news-sheet,  which  died  in  the  effort  of  giving  it 
birth,  watch  its  acceptance  by  the  waggish  of  one 
generation  of   King  George's  subjects,   and  its 
growth  into  a  tradition  among  an  increasing  num- 
ber of  the  next.    Later  we  may  see  the  adoption 
of  this  tradition  by  the  writers  of  otherwise  cred- 
ible publications.    A  further  stage  will  bring  us  to 
a  remarkable  development  of  the  legend  after 
King  George's  death,  and  its  support  by  whole 
masses  of  forged  evidence  in  a  famous  and  im- 
pudent claim,  to  which  it  was  a  sort  of  side-show. 
By  this  time  the  lie  had  developed  into  a  noxious 
growth,  which,  had  it  become  established,  might 
have  had  very  serious  consequences.  But,  dragged 
at  last  into  the  light,  it  died  a  sudden  death  in  the 
antiseptic  air  of  a  British  court  of  justice.     Its 
career,  however,  had  been  so  long  unchallenged 

89 


IN   THE   DAYS   OF  THE   GEORGES 

that  it  had  enlisted  the  support  of  a  good  many 
worthy  people  who  should  have  known  better,  and 
it  is  doubtful  whether  its  memory  is  not  still 
cherished  by  a  few.  Certainly  at  its  final  refuta- 
tion there  was  no  "haberdasher  to  steal  his  hat 
from  the  peg  and  retire  to  his  shop  in  confusion." 
Lastly,  although  the  fable  is  at  last  dead,  there 
are  certain  personalities  and  circumstances  with 
which  it  dealt  still  remaining  in  an  atmosphere 
of  some  mystery,  and  a  plain  statement  of  the 
whole  amazing  story  seems  to  present  promise  of 
some  points  of  interest. 

It  was  in  February  of  1776,  when  George  the 
Third  had  been  nearly  sixteen  years  on  the  throne 
and  was  thirty-eight  years  of  age,  that  there  ap- 
peared in  London  the  first  number  of  a  news- 
sheet  under  the  title  of  the  Citizen.  The  paper 
was  published  on  the  24th  of  that  month,  and  was 
announced  as  being  sold  by  John  Wheeble,  22 
Fleet  Street.  Among  other  attractions  promised 
to  its  readers  was  the  following— 

"  Court  Fragments,  which  will  be  published  by 
the  Citizen  for  the  Use,  Instruction,  and  Amuse- 
ment of  Royal  Infants  and  Young  Promising 
Noblemen. 

(i)  "  The  History  and  Adventures  of  Miss 
L  .  .  htf  .  .  t,  the  Fair  Quaker;  wherein  will  be 
faithfully  portrayed  some  striking  pictures  of 
female  constancy  and  princely  gratitude,  which 
terminated  in  the  untimely  death  of  that  young 
lady,  and  the  sudden  death  of  a  disconsolate 
mother." 

90 


THE   ELUSIVE   QUAKERESS 

Such,  so  far  as  can  be  ascertained,  was  the  first 
appearance  in  print  of  the  hardy  legend  which  we 
have  now  to  trace  through  the  backstairs  gossip  of 
nearly  a  century.  It  will  be  noted  that  there  is 
little  definite  statement  in  this  announcement  in 
the  Citizen,  which  might  indeed  have  referred  to 
George  the  Third  or  to  any  other  prince  in 
Europe.  Its  vague  innuendoes  as  to  the  short- 
comings of  "  royal  infants  "  and  princes  were  only 
developed  into  definite  accusations  against  King 
George  at  a  later  date.  We  shall  find  there  were 
amazing  discrepancies  in  those  accusations,  but 
stated  in  plain  terms  the  charge  against  George 
the  Third  became  clear  enough.  This  was  that 
George,  when  Prince  of  Wales,  fell  in  love  with 
a  young  and  attractive  Quakeress  named  Hannah 
Lightfoot,  married  her,  had  several  children,  and 
kept  her  in  absolute  seclusion  until  her  death. 
The  date  of  the  marriage  was  variously  stated. 
Some  of  the  King's  accusers,  indeed,  denied  the 
marriage  altogether,  and  contended  that  George's 
possession  of  the  young  woman  was  but  the  result 
of  her  forced  marriage  with  a  convenient  bride- 
groom, who  was  compensated  for  his  complais- 
ance. The  Prince's  crime  was  thus  reduced  from 
bigamy  to  adultery.  But  the  general  fact  of  his 
connection  with  Hannah  Lightfoot,  with  the  result 
of  a  variously  estimated  family  and  his  seclusion 
of  the  young  woman,  was  put  forward  with  all 
confidence  by  the  original  scandal-mongers,  and 
accepted  by  the  gobemouches  of  three  genera- 

91 


IN  THE   DAYS   OF   THE   GEORGES 

tions  at  least,  and  it  is  that  acceptance  of  so  in- 
herently improbable  a  story  that  seems  to  justify 
our  inquiry. 

There  could  surely  be  no  worse  subject  for 
such  a  scandal  than  George  the  Third.  Never 
was  a  prince  whose  youthful  doings  showed  more 
decorum,  or  whose  goings  and  comings  were  under 
more  complete  surveillance.  From  the  day  of  his 
father's  death  in  1751,  until  that  of  his  own  acces- 
sion just  nine  years  later,  there  was  so  complete 
an  absence  of  all  mystery  about  the  young  Prince's 
doings,  and  his  habits  are  so  well  known,  that  much 
of  his  time  could  be  accounted  for  even  at  this 
day.  During  the  whole  of  those  nine  years  George 
was  the  rising  hope  of  one  political  party  and  the 
despair  of  the  other,  and  he  passed  his  youth  in  an 
atmosphere  of  intrigue  and  suspicion  which  kept 
a  hundred  eyes  upon  him.  His  governors  and 
preceptors  and  their  subordinates  were  constantly 
falling  out  and  being  changed.  Lord  North, 
Dean  Ayscough,  Lord  Waldegrave,  Dr.  Hayter 
Bishop  of  Norwich,  the  Bishop  of  Peterborough, 
as  well  as  a  set  of  understudies  who  taught  him 
his  sums  and  grammar,  all  had  a  hand  in  his  rear- 
ing until  he  passed  into  the  care  of  the  Princess 
his  mother  and  Lord  Bute,  with  plain  Parson 
Hales,  that  royal  lady's  Clerk  of  the  Closet,  to 
look  after  his  soul's  welfare.  Under  the  eye  of 
one  or  other  of  those  jealous  guardians,  who  were 
themselves  jealously  watched  by  others  they  had 
displaced,  there  was,  as  already  suggested,  scarce 

92 


THE   ELUSIVE  QUAKERESS 

an  hour  of  the  exemplary  youth's  time  unac- 
counted for.  Much  of  it,  according  to  one  of 
them,  was  passed  in  sleep.  George's  only  com- 
panion was  his  brother,  Prince  Edward  of  York, 
for  the  Princess  was  afraid  that  his  morals  might 
be  contaminated  by  any  association  with  the  noble 
youth  of  that  day,  and  as  a  result  of  the  Princess's 
maternal  care,  young  George  grew  up  entirely 
after  her  own  heart.  We  have  it  on  her  authority 
that  he  was  reserved  and  childish  until  well  on  in 
his  teens.  Lord  Waldegrave  declared  that  he  was 
full  of  the  prejudices  fostered  by  women  and 
pages.  Old  King  George  the  Second  stated 
roundly  that  his  grandson  was  fit  for  nothing  but 
to  read  the  Bible  to  his  mother;  it  is  certain  that 
the  pious  boy  voluntarily  learned  many  of  Dr. 
Doddridge's  devotional  hymns  by  heart.  His 
chief  relaxations  were  the  study  of  the  art  of  the 
locksmith  and  the  dissection  of  clocks  and 
watches.  At  the  age  of  seventeen  he  refused  a 
matrimonial  scheme  provided  for  him  by  his 
grandfather,  and  declined  a  separate  establish- 
ment at  Kensington  on  the  ground  that  "  it  would 
be  so  great  a  mortification  for  his  mother,"  though 
it  is  said  he  thriftily  accepted  the  ^40,000  a  year 
which  accompanied  the  old  King's  offer.  His 
only  excursion,  indeed,  from  his  mother's  apron- 
string  up  to  the  time  that  he  came  to  the  throne 
seems  to  have  been  a  tour  which  he  took  with  Lord 
Bute  to  the  island  from  which  that  nobleman  took 
his  title,  during  which  he  was  assuredly  in  very 

93 


IN   THE   DAYS   OF   THE   GEORGES 

safe  hands.  Finally,  when  at  last  he  became 
King,  George  opened  his  reign  very  auspiciously 
with  a  proclamation  against  immorality. 

It  was  this  harmless  and  exemplary  youth, 
reared  in  such  circumstances,  who  in  the  Lightf  oot 
story  was  made  to  figure  as  a  very  villain  of  melo- 
drama, quick  in  design  and  prompt  in  execution, 
and  with  abduction  as  the  least  of  his  crimes,  and 
adultery  or  bigamy  as  the  alternatives. 

;These  and  other  circumstances  considered,  the 
charge  against  George  involved  in  the  acceptance 
of  the  Lightfoot  legend  was  so  improbable  and 
grotesque,  that  there  is  little  wonder  that  it  failed 
to  attract  any  particular  attention, during* the  King's 
lifetime.  None  of  the  reputable  gossips  of  his 
times  had  any  dealings  with  it,  a  fact  which  in 
itself  is  almost  sufficient  to  give  the  story  its  proper 
value.  Had  it  possessed  even  plausibility  it  would 
have  been  meat  and  drink  for  writers  like  Horace 
Walpole.  The  ginger  of  scandal  was  hot  in 
Horace's  mouth  to  the  end,  nothing,  indeed,  was 
too  spicy  even  for  the  prim  Miss  Berrys  in  those 
famous  Reminiscences,  and  Horace's  correspond- 
ents would  certainly  have  received  reams  of 
diverting  comment  on  so  racy  a  scandal  had  it 
reached  him  with  any  shadow  of  authority.  Again, 
when  the  copious  love  affairs  of  King  George's 
own  son,  the  hopeful  Prince  of  .Wales,  afterwards 
George  the  Fourth,  provided  the  scandal-mongers 
with  a  perennial  joy,  and  gave  to  a  great  political 
party  a  weapon  by  which  they  hinted  they  could 

94 


THE   ELUSIVE   QUAKERESS 

an  if  they  would  deprive  the  Prince  of  his  right 
of  succession  by  reason  of  his  marriage  to  Mrs. 
Fitzherbert,  is  it  likely  that  even  a  worse  fredaine 
of  King  George's  own  youth  would  have  escaped 
exposure  by  the  Whigs,  who  at  the  moment  were 
heart  and  soul  in  the  Prince's  interest  and  against 
the  King?  Obviously  not.  During  all  those 
years  of  strife  between  George  the  Third  and  his 
son,  the  Lightfoot  story  was  still  only  whispered 
at  coffee-houses  and  taverns,  and  it  remained  in 
the  keeping  of  such  company  for  another  genera- 
tion. It  was  only  well  on  in  the  nineteenth  century 
that  it  gained  any  real  credence,  and  then  at  a 
time  when  sixty  years  and  more  separated  the  sup- 
posed crime  from  its  refutation,  the  difficulty  of 
which  so  great  a  lapse  of  time  enormously  in- 
creased. 

It  is  noteworthy  that  the  second  appearance  in 
print  of  the  Lightfoot  story  took  place  under 
auspices  little  more  reputable  than  those  of  its 
origin  in  the  dingy  pages  of  the  Citizen.  Notable 
among  the  literary  bravos  of  the  eighteenth  cen- 
tury was  one  William  Combe,  who  is  remembered 
to-day  by  his  more  reputable  works,  of  which  his 
Tours  of  Dr.  Syntax  and  his  elaborate  production 
describing  the  river  Thames  are  the  most  notable ; 
both  of  which,  however,  owe  their  survival  in 
modern  collections  to  the  excellence  of  their  illus- 
trations in  coloured  aquatint  by  Thomas  Rowland- 
son  and  Mr.  Farington,  R.A.,  respectively.  But 
Combe's  main  occupation  was  the  production  of 

95 


IN   THE   DAYS   OF   THE   GEORGES 

very  different  matter,  and  among  a  mass  of 
scandal  which  he  either  wrote  or  edited,  a  typical 
specimen  is  the  Royal  Register,  which  appeared 
under  his  auspices  in  1779.  In  the  third  volume 
of  this  Register,  in  an  article  dealing  with  King 
George,  may  be  read  the  following  variation  of 
the  legend— 

"  It  is  not  believed  even  at  this  time  by  many 
persons  who  live  in  the  world  that  he  (King 
George)  had  a  mistress  previous  to  his  marriage. 
Such  a  circumstance  was  reported  by  many,  be- 
lieved by  some,  disputed  by  others,  but  proved  by 
none;  and  with  such  a  suitable  caution  was  this 
intrigue  conducted  that  if  the  body  of  the  people 
called  Quakers,  of  which  the  young  lady  in  ques- 
tion was  a  member,  had  not  divulged  the  fact  by 
the  public  proceedings  of  their  meeting  concern- 
ing it,  it  would  in  all  probability  have  remained  a 
matter  of  doubt  to  this  day." 

This  version  of  the  story,  it  will  be  seen,  ap- 
peared three  years  after  its  original  publication  in 
the  Citizen,  and  the  point  to  be  borne  in  mind  is 
that  the  charge  is  now  limited  to  a  common  in- 
trigue, which  was  only  discovered  by  the  action 
of  a  body  of  Quakers  in  taking  disciplinary  notice 
of  the  backslidings  of  one  of  their  number.  But 
the  central  charge  of  an  intrigue  against  King 
George  when  Prince  of  Wales  is  treated  as  an 
accepted  fact. 

One  supposes  that  to  have  been  the  case  among 
the  sort  of  persons  who  kept  the  story  going ;  it  is 

96 


THE   ELUSIVE  QUAKERESS 

important,  however,  to  remember  that  it  still  kept 
out  of  all  respectable  company,  and  remained  as 
a  lickerish  morsel  among  the  class  who  had  first 
propagated  it  for  nearly  another  generation.  One 
assumes,  however,  that  its  constant  repetition  in 
such  company  at  length  gave  it  a  vitality  which 
started  its  growth,  and  resulted  in  its  reaching  by 
slow  stages  a  higher  stratum  of  society.  In  any 
case,  the  legend  remained  unsupported  by  further 
printed  repetition  for  no  less  than  twenty-six 
years.  All  the  anti-court  squibs  and  lampoons 
which  were  produced  in  such  generous  measure 
against  King  George  and  his  policy  through  those 
strenuous  last  twenty  years  of  the  eighteenth  cen- 
tury left  it  unnoticed;  one  has  only  to  think  of 
the  opportunity  such  a  story  would  have  provided 
for  the  wits  of  the  Rolliad,  for  example,  to  see 
how  small  was  its  acceptance  by  those  to  whom, 
had  it  possessed  any  real  credibility,  it  would 
have  proved  a  godsend.  But  when,  in  1815,  the 
Lightfoot  legend  reappeared,  if  the  story  lacked 
some  of  its  original  venom,  it  was  certainly  in 
better  company.  It  was  republished,  indeed, 
under  the  auspices  of  that  very  diverting  writer, 
Sir  Nathaniel  Wraxall,  in  whose  first  series  of 
Historical  Memoirs  is  the  following  passage — 

"  Stories  were,  indeed,  generally  circulated  con- 
cerning his  (King  George's)  attachment  to  a  young 
woman,  a  Quaker,  about  this  time  of  .his  life,  just 
as  scandal-mongers  afterwards  whispered  that  he 
distinguished  Lady  Bridget  Tollemache  by  his 


IN  THE   DAYS   OF   THE   GEORGES 

particular  attentions.  The  former  report  was 
probably  well  founded,  and  the  latter  assertion 
was  unquestionably  true,  but  those  persons  who 
have  enjoyed  most  opportunities  for  studying  the 
King's  character  will  most  incline  to  believe  that 
in  neither  instance  did  he  pass  the  limits  of  inno- 
cent gallantry  or  occasional  familiarity." 

If  the  legend  gains  by  the  authority  of  Wraxall, 
it  certainly  suffers  a  diminution  of  its  virulent 
quality,  for  here  the  intrigue  with  Hannah  Light- 
foot  dissolves  into  a  bit  of  innocent  ogling,  or  at 
the  worst,  "  occasional  familiarity."  Most  students 
of  the  life  and  times  of  George  the  Third  will  be 
inclined  to  believe  that  his  inclinations  and  oppor- 
tunities for  the  greater  offence  were  as  strong  and 
as  many  as  for  the  less.  It  is  quite  as  easy  to 
think  of  the  Prince  George  we  know  provided 
with  all  the  apparatus  of  a  midnight  abduction, 
and  removing  Hannah  in  a  coach  and  four  with 
the  assistance  of  myrmidons  in  long  cloaks  and 
black  vizors,  as  to  picture  him  making  sheeps' 
eyes  at  that  lady,  and  favouring  her  with  an  occa- 
sional chuck  under  the  chin.  The  story,  in  fact, 
was  dwindling  to  very  harmless  proportions  in 
1815.  The  dark  innuendoes  of  the  Citizen  and 
the  ingenious  Mr.  Combe,  in  Wraxall's  hands  had 
tapered  off  into  a  story  of  "harmless  gallantry." 
It  was  reserved  for  a  lady  to  formulate  a  charge  of 
a  more  damaging  character.  This  lady  was  Mrs. 
Piozzi,  better  known  to  fame  as  Mrs.  Thrale,  the 
friend  of  Dr.  Johnson,  and  the  patroness  of  that 

98 


remarkable  society  at  Streatham  where  so  much 
of  the  Johnsonian  tradition  centres.  Mrs.  Piozzi, 
who  died  in  1821,  read  and  annotated  Wraxall's 
memoirs,  and  as  a  note  to  the  above  quoted  pas- 
sages, she  declares  in  a  very  authoritative  manner, 
"  Her  (Hannah  Lightfoot's)  son  by  him  (King 
George)  is  still  alive." 

Mrs.  Piozzi,  it  will  be  observed,  does  not  con- 
descend to  explain  the  exact  circumstances  in 
which  this  son  was  born  to  parents  whom  she  so 
confidently  associates,  and  we  are  left  to  con- 
jecture whether  that  son  was  the  result  of  a  secret 
marriage,  as  was  afterwards  alleged,  or  of  a  mere 
vulgar  and  less  courageous  intrigue.    Here,  again, 
it  is  very  necessary  to  examine  the  credentials  of 
this  self-appointed  judge  of  her  sovereign,  who 
was  alive  when  her  judgment  was  delivered.     It 
must  be  confessed  that  this  lady  was  always  pre- 
pared with  pronouncements  of  this  sort  concern- 
ing prominent  individuals,  some  of  which  have 
been  taken  altogether  too  seriously.    She  delivered 
a  judgment  in  the   same  annotated  volume  of 
Wraxall  as  to  the  origin  of  the  founder  of  an 
eminent  family,   Thomas   Rumbold,   whom   she 
placed  as  a  shoe-black  at  White's  Club  in  his 
early  youth,  a  judgment  which  finds  little  accept- 
ance to-day,  and  is,  in  fact,  strenuously  resisted 
by  present  representatives  of  the  family.     It  was 
the  same  lady's  verse,  describing  the  famous  por- 
traits at  Streatham,  which  credited   Sir  Joshua 
Reynolds  with  a  "  cold  heart,"  and  there  have  not 
02  99 


IN   THE   DAYS   OF   THE   GEORGES 

been  wanting  biographers  of  that  great  painter 
since  the  days  of  Alan  Cunningham  to  accept  that 
ridiculous  estimate  of  the  character  of  one  of  the 
kindest  and  most  generous  of  men.  On  the  whole, 
indeed,  it  can  scarcely  be  claimed  that  Mrs. 
Piozzi's  ex  cathedra  pronouncement  added  much 
to  the  credibility  of  the  Lightfoot  story. 

That  story,  therefore,  during  King  George's 
lifetime  had  assumed  no  serious  dimensions,  and 
was  contained  in  the  printed  innuendoes  we  have 
quoted,  and  the  mere  rumours  reported,  without 
any  attempt  at  supporting  evidence,  by  Wraxall 
and  Mrs.  Piozzi.  Although  the  bare  suggestion 
of  an  intrigue  of  the  sort  in  connection  with  such 
a  Puritan  in  morals  as  King  George  the  Third  is 
a  distinct  shock,  it  must  be  confessed  that  there 
were  ample  precedents  for  such  shortcomings  in 
his  own  family,  and  had  such  a  folly  of  the  youth- 
ful Prince  in  his  'teens  been  true  and  proved,  it 
need  not  have  borne  very  hardly  against  the  repu- 
tation of  a  King  who  later  set  a  pattern  of  domestic 
fidelity  for  the  most  virtuous  of  his  subjects.  But 
the  scandal-mongers  were  only  waiting  for  the 
death  of  the  King  to  bring  forward  aspersions  of 
the  most  injurious  character.  It  was,  again,  in  the 
convenient  pages  of  a  periodical  published  under 
doubtful  auspices,  and  still  under  the  shelter  of  a 
cautious  anonymity,  that  these  charges  appeared. 

The  periodical  in  question  was  the  Monthly 
Magazine,  one  of  the  literary  ventures  of  a  pro- 
minent journalistic  figure  of  those  days,  Richard 

100 


THE   ELUSIVE   QUAKERESS 

Phillips,  and  April  ist,  1821,  was,  in  all  the  cir- 
cumstances, a  very  appropriate  date  for  the  first 
communication  upon  the  subject,  in  which,  it  will 
be  noticed,  King  George  being  dead  and  buried, 
the  Lightfoot  story  undergoes  an  amazing  expan- 
sion. 

A  correspondent  who  signed  himself  B.  opened 
the  ball  by  a  short  communication  to  that  journal, 
in  which  he  says,  "All  the  world  is  acquainted 
with  the  attachment  of  the  late  King  to  a  beautiful 
Quakeress  of  the  name  of  Wheeler.  The  lady 
disappeared  on  the  royal  marriage  in  a  way  which 
has  always  been  interesting,  because  unexplained 
and  mysterious.  I  have  been  told  she  is  still  alive, 
or  was  so  lately."  B.  concluded  by  asking  for 
information  on  the  subject. 

It  will  be  noticed  that  the  "beautiful  Quaker- 
ess" whose  name  had  been  whispered  for  over 
sixty  years  as  Hannah  Lightfoot  now  becomes 
Wheeler,  and  that  a  marriage  is  mentioned  for  the 
first  time.  It  is  not  clear,  however,  whether  a 
marriage  between  the  Prince  and  the  Quakeress 
is  suggested,  or  that  the  "  royal  marriage  "  men- 
tioned is  that  of  King  George  to  Queen  Charlotte 
in  1761.  In  the  latter  case,  it  would  seem  that  it 
was  claimed  by  this  correspondent  that  Hannah 
was  in  evidence  until  the  arrival  of  the  Princess 
Charlotte  from  Mecklenburg  necessitated  her 
disappearance. 

However,  the  information  asked  for  by  B.  was 
forthcoming  in  generous  quantity  in  a  later  number 

101 


IN  THE   DAYS   OF   THE   GEORGES 

of  the  Monthly  Magazine.  In  that  published  on 
July  ist  appeared  a  long  letter  dated  from  War- 
minster  on  the  3Oth  of  April,  and  signed  "War- 
minsterensis."  This  letter  requires  particular 
attention  as  the  first  statement  alleging  certain 
definite  facts;  it  also  assumed  a  certain  air  of 
authority,  and  at  length  provided  critics  of  the 
Lightfoot  tradition  with  abundant  material  upon 
which  to  exercise  their  scepticism. 

It  appears,  then,  from  "  Warminsterensis  "  that 
the  real  name  of  "the  fair  Quaker  who  once 
engaged  the  affections  of  King  George  was  not 
Wheeler,  as  stated  by  B.,  but  Hannah  Lightfoot. 
She  lived  with  her  father  and  mother  at  the  corner 
of  St.  James's  Market,  who  kept  a  shop  there  (I 
believe  linendrapers).  The  Prince  had  often 
noticed  her  on  his  way  from  Leicester  House  to 
St.  James's,  and  was  struck  with  her  person. 
Miss  Chudleigh,  the  late  Duchess  of  Kingston, 
became  his  agent.  The  royal  lover's  relations 
took  alarm,  and  sent  to  inquire  for  a  young  man 
to  marry  her."  This  pressing  need,  it  appears, 
was  supplied  in  the  person  of  one  Isaac  Axford, 
who  "  was  shopman  to  Barton  the  grocer  on  Lud- 
gate  Hill,  and  used  to  chat  with  her  when  she 
came  to  the  shop  to  buy  groceries.  A  Mr.  Perryn 
of  Knightsbridge,  it  was  said,  furnished  a  place  of 
meeting  for  the  lovers.  An  agent  of  Miss  Chud- 
leigh's  called  on  Axford,  and  proposed  that  on 
his  marrying  Hannah  he  should  have  a  consider- 
able sum  of  money.  Hannah  stayed  for  a  short 

1 02 


Mrs.  Axford 

From  a  Painting  by  Sir  Joshua  Reynolds 
(By  Permission  of  Henr*-  Graves  &  Co) 


THE  ELUSIVE   QUAKERESS 

time  with  her  husband,  and  Isaac  never  saw  her 
more,  but  he  learned  that  she  had  gone  with  Miss 
Chudleigh.  He  was  a  poor-hearted  fellow,  for 
by  making  a  bustle  about  it  he  might,  perhaps, 
have  secured  himself  a  good  provision.  He  told 
me  when  I  last  saw  him  that  he  presented  a 
petition  at  St.  James's  which  was  not  attended  to, 
also  that  he  had  received  some  money  from 
Perryn's  assignees  on  account  of  his  wife. 

"  Isaac  lived  many  years  as  a  respectable 
grocer  at  Warminster,  his  native  place,  but  retired 
from  business  before  his  death,  which  took  place 
about  five  years  ago  in  the  86th  year  of  his  age. 

"  Many  years  after  Hannah  was  taken  away,  her 
husband,  believing  her  to  be  dead,  married  again 
to  a  Miss  Bartleet  of  Keevil,  North  Wilts,  and 
by  her  succeeded  to  an  estate  at  Chevrell  of  about 
^150  a  year.  On  the  report  reviving,  a  few  years 
since,  of  his  first  wife's  being  still  living,  a  Mr. 
Bartleet,  first  cousin  to  Isaac's  second  wife, 
claimed  the  estate  on  the  plea  of  the  invalidity  of 
this  second  marriage. 

"  It  is  said  that  the  late  Marquis  of  Bath,  a 
little  before  his  death,  reported  that  she  was  then 
living,  and  the  same  has  been  asserted  by  other 
gentlemen  of  this  neighbourhood. 

"  Hannah  was  fair  and  pure,  as  far  as  I  have 
ever  heard,  but,  report  says,  not  the  purest  of  the 
pure,  in  respect  of  the  house  of  Mr.  Perryn,  who 
left  her  an  annuity  of  ,£40  a  year.  She  was, 
indeed,  considered  one  of  the  beautiful  women 

103 


IN  THE   DAYS   OF   THE   GEORGES 

of    her   time,    and    rather    disposed    to    embon- 
point" 

Here,  then,  at  last,  is  a  definite  indictment  of 
the  virtuous  prince  and  king  George.  Phillips, 
the  proprietor  of  the  Monthly  Magazine  whose 
pages  it  graced,  preceded  this  letter  of  "War- 
minsterensis  "  with  an  editorial  introduction,  and 
speaks  of  his  correspondent  as  "a  respectable 
gentleman  of  Warminster."  He  adds  also  some 
particulars  of  a  private  inquiry  of  his  own,  as 
supplementary  to  the  information  of  that  respect- 
able gentleman.  From  these  it  seems  that  so  late 
as  July  1821  the  Axford  family  were  still  respect- 
able grocers  on  Ludgate  Hill,  and  that,  upon 
inquiry  there,  Phillips  soon  got  upon  the  track  of 
a  son  of  Isaac  by  "his  second  wife,"  Miss  Bart- 
leet.  This  young  Mr.  Axford  assured  Phillips 
that  "  Warminsterensis's "  information  was  sub- 
stantially correct.  Hannah,  however,  lived  as  long 
as  six  weeks  with  Isaac  Axford,  who  was  fondly 
attached  to  her,  and  one  evening  when  he  hap- 
pened to  be  from  home,  a  coach  and  four  came  to 
his  door,  into  which  Hannah  was  popped  and 
driven  off  at  a  gallop,  no  one  knew  whither.  The 
unfortunate  Isaac  was  inconsolable  at  first,  and 
at  different  times  applied  for  satisfaction  <*at 
Weymouth  and  elsewhere,"  but  without  success, 
and  died  after  sixty  years  in  total  ignorance  of 
Hannah's  fate.  It  was  reported,  however,  that 
she  had  three  sons  by  her  lover,  one  of  whom 
rose  high  in  the  army,  that  she  died  and  was 

104 


THE  ELUSIVE   QUAKERESS 

buried  at  Islington,  and  even  that  she  was  still 
alive." 

It  cannot  be  held  that  Mr.  Phillips's  inquiry 
was  altogether  confirmatory  of  his  correspondent's 
letter.  If  Isaac  had  taken  "a  considerable  sum," 
as  stated  by  the  excellent  "  Warminsterensis,"  in 
order  to  enact  the  part  of  the  convenient  husband 
required  by  the  Prince's  alarmed  relatives,  he 
surely  had  no  reason  to  complain  or  to  be  incon- 
solable when  they  exacted  their  share  of  the 
bargain  in  removing  the  lady.  He  may,  indeed, 
be  considered  lucky,  in  all  the  circumstances,  in 
having  had  the  advantage  of  Hannah's  society 
for  six  weeks,  and  there  seem  to  have  been  excel- 
lent reasons  for  his  rebuff  when  he  approached  the 
royal  presence  at  "  Weymouth  and  elsewhere." 

Certain  doubts  on  these  and  other  points 
occurred  to  readers  of  the  magazine,  and  found  a 
voice  in  "  Brentfordensis,"  who  raised  some  rather 
pertinent  questions  in  a  letter  dated  July  I2th  of 
the  same  year  1821.  Thus  he  wished  to  know 
why  the  fair  Quakeress  was  sometimes  called 
Wheeler  and  sometimes  Lightfoot;  when  and 
where  did  the  marriage  of  Hannah  take  place,  and 
how  was  it  proved  that  she  was  the  same  Quaker- 
ess who  lived  at  the  corner  of  St.  James's  Market 
and  was  admired  by  Prince  George;  where  was 
she  carried  off  from  in  the  coach  and  four ;  where 
and  at  what  date  was  the  lawsuit  by  Mr.  Bartleet 
against  Isaac  Axf ord ;  did  he  succeed,  and  if  not, 
why;  was  Mr.  Bartleet  living,  and  if  so,  where? 

105 


IN  THE  DAYS   OF  THE   GEORGES 

These  questions  were  assuredly  very  much  to  the 
point,  and  most  of  them  remain  unanswered  to 
this  day. 

The  story,  however,  was  carried  a  step  further 
by  another  correspondent  of  the  invaluable 
Monthly  Magazine,  to  which  periodical,  indeed, 
it  afforded  copy  of  most  remunerative  character. 
The  September  number  was  a  good  investment 
for  the  subscription,  and  provided  matter  of  much 
relish  to  connoisseurs  in  such  fare.  From  this 
correspondent  we  learn  that  Isaac  Axford  never 
cohabited  with  Hannah  Lightfoot,  but  that  she 
was  taken  away  from  the  church  door  the  day  they 
were  married,  and  that  Isaac  never  saw  her  again. 
The  reprobate  Prince,  he  says,  had  frequently 
seen  Hannah  at  the  shop  door  in  St.  James's 
Market  "as  he  drove  by  going  to  and  from 
Parliament."  He  confirmed  the  information  that 
the  accommodating  Perryn  of  Knightsbridge  left 
Hannah  £40  a  year,  and  added  that  Isaac  pre- 
sented a  petition  on  his  knees  to  the  King  in  the 
park,  praying  that  Hannah  be  restored  to  him, 
"  but  obtained  but  little  redress." 

We  get  little  further  light  from  this  correspond- 
ent, but  may  be  thankful,  perhaps,  for  the 
church  which  he  brings  into  the  story.  But  there 
is  still  no  explanation  of  Isaac's  unreasonable 
conduct  in  finding  a  grievance  at  being  asked  to 
carry  out  his  part  of  the  bargain  after  pouching 
the  Prince's  money.  In  October,  however,  there 
was  distinct  progress.  In  the  magazine  for  that 

1 06 


THE   ELUSIVE   QUAKERESS 

month  "An  Inquirer"  supplied  some  important 
information,  which  must  be  given  in  full. 

"  Hannah  Lightfoot,  when  residing  with  her 
father  and  mother,  was  frequently  seen  by  the 
King  when  he  drove  by  going  to  and  from  Par- 
liament House.  She  eloped  in  1754,  and  was 
married  to  Isaac  Axford  at  Keith's  chapel,  which 
my  father  discovered  about  three  weeks  after,  and 
none  of  her  family  have  seen  her  since,  though 
her  mother  had  a  letter  or  two  from  her,  but  died  at 
last  of  grief.  There  were  many  fabulous  stories 
about  her,  but  my  aunt,  the  mother  of  Hannah 
Lightfoot,  could  never  trace  any  to  be  true." 

"The  above,"  explains  "Inquirer,"  "is  a  copy 
of  a  cousin  of  Hannah  Lightfoot's  letter  to  me 
on  inquiry  of  particulars  of  this  mysterious  affair, 
and  who  is  now  living  and  more  likely  to  know 
the  particulars  than  any  one  else.  The  general 
belief  of  her  friends  was  that  she  was  taken  into 
keeping  by  Prince  George  directly  after  her 
marriage  to  Axford,  but  never  lived  with  him." 
"  Inquirer "  then  adds  some  information  of  her 
own. 

"  I  have  lately  seen  a  half-pay  cavalry  officer 
from  India  who  knew  a  gentleman  of  the  name  of 
Dalton  who  married  a  daughter  of  Hannah  Light- 
foot  by  the  King,  but  who  is  dead,  leaving  several 
accomplished  daughters,  who,  with  the  father,  are 
coming  to  England.  These  daughters  are 
secluded  from  society  like  nuns,  but  no  pains 
spared  in  their  education.  Probably  on  the  arrival 
of  this  gentleman  more  light  will  be  thrown  on  the 

107 


IN   THE   DAYS   OF  THE   GEORGES 

subject  than  now  exists.  The  person  who  wrote 
the  above  letter  is  distantly  related  to  me,  and  my 
mother,  deceased  some  years,  was  related  to 
Hannah  Lightfoot  and  well  knew  her.  I  never 
heard  her  say  any  more  than  I  have  described 
already,  except  that  she  was'  short  of  stature  and 
very  pretty." 

Here,  at  last,  we  have  a  date  and  place  for  the 
marriage.  Axford  married  Hannah  at  Keith's 
chapel  in  1754,  it  seems,  and  Prince  George  took 
charge  of  her  immediately  afterwards.  It  is 
enough  to  shake  one's  faith  in  human  nature.  The 
young  reprobate  whom  we  thought  of  as  learning 
hymns,  oiling  locks  and  watching  pendulums  at 
Carlton  House  at  the  tender  age  of  fifteen  was  all 
the  while  maturing  a  plan  for  abducting  another 
man's  wife,  a  plan  which  he  carried  out  with  such 
success  and  secrecy  that  the  deed  only  came  to 
light  just  sixty-seven  years  afterwards. 

We  are  now  arrived  at  October  1821,  but  the 
Monthly  Magazine  had  not  yet  done  with  the  sub- 
ject, and  nearly  a  year  later,  in  July  of  1822,  the 
wondrous  tale  was  taken  up  by  Mr.  (or  Mrs.) 
T.  G.  H.,  whose  claim  to  speak  with  authority 
rested  upon  the  fact  that  among  his  relatives  were 
some  "who  had  been  Hannah's  neighbours." 
T.  G.  H.  himself  remembered  Wheeler's  shop  in 
St.  James's  Market,  the  open  space  which,  before 
its  demolition,  included  "a  daily  flesh  market" 
and  a  poultry  market,  the  first  under  cover,  the 
last  "  an  open,  oblong  space."  The  linendraper's 

108 


THE   ELUSIVE   QUAKERESS 

shop  was  the  eastern  corner  house  on  the  south 
side  of  this  open  poultry  market,  and  abutted  on 
a  narrow  lane,  Market  Lane,  which  ran  down  to 
Pall  Mall  at  the  back  of  the  Opera  House,  its 
lower  end,  as  far  as  Wheeler's  shop,  being  later 
covered  over  and  made  into  an  arcade.  Mr. 
Wheeler,  it  seems,  did  the  chief  part  of  his  busi- 
ness with  the  farmers  of  the  poultry  market,  for 
whom  he  was  accustomed  to  keep  on  tap  "  a  cask 
of  good  ale." 

The  pretty  Quakeress  who  engaged  the  youthful 
fancy  of  Prince  George  is  represented  by  this  well 
informed  correspondent  as  the  daughter  of  the 
hospitable  linendraper.  "  Miss  Wheeler,"  says 
he,  "  owed  much  of  her  beauty,  like  the  Gunnings, 
to  her  providential  escape  from  the  small-pox,  and 
her  admirers  attending  her  between  the  shop  and 
her  place  of  worship,  the  Friends'  Meeting  House 
in  St.  Martin's  Lane,  rivalled  that  which  attended 
those  paragons  when  taking  the  air  in  the  park  or 
elsewhere." 

We  learn  further  that  whenever  royalty  came 
to  the  Opera  it  came  in  chairs  preceded  by  a  few 
footmen,'  and  followed  by  about  a  dozen  Beef- 
eaters, and  that  it  was  accustomed  to  enter  the 
Opera  House  by  the  back  door  in  Market  Lane. 
Wheeler's  shop  at  the  corner  lay  in  the  line  of 
march,  and  on  these  occasions  "  all  the  linens  were 
taken  out  of  the  eastern  window,"  and  Miss 
Wheeler  was  placed  there  instead  of  the  towels 
and  tablecloths,  in  order  that  she  might  see  the 

109 


IN   THE  DAYS   OF  THE   GEORGES 

procession.  The  idea  seems  excellent,  and  the 
advertisement  good.  "  The  fame  of  her  beauty," 
says  T.  G.  H.,  "attracted  the  notice  of  the 
Prince ; "  but,  as  his  royal  highness  could  see  her 
there  in  the  flesh,  that  fame  seems  redundant  in 
the  circumstances. 

There  follows  an  account  of  the  way  in  which 
the  meeting  of  the  lovers  was  effected,  all  in  the 
approved  style  of  the  eighteenth  century  mystery. 
Those  who  have  explored  the  by-ways  of  that 
century  know  it  all  so  well,  with  its  capital  letters, 
blanks,  dashes  and  asterisks.  A  convenient  rascal, 

well  known  about  the  court  as  Jack  M ,  lived 

with  his  wife  in  Pall  Mall,  to  whom  the  task  of 
providing  the  Prince  with  the  dainty  Miss  Wheeler 
was  committed.  This  worthy,  after  a  reconnoiter- 
ing  of  the  neighbourhood,  proceeded  to  estab- 
lish himself  in  a  watchmaker's  shop  opposite 
Wheeler's,  from  which  place  of  vantage  he  could 
watch  that  house  unobserved.  Here  he  discovered 
that  a  frequent  visitor  was  a  woman  whom  subse- 
quent inquiries  proved  to  be  a  confidante  of  Miss 

Wheeler's,  by  the  name  of  H .     This  Mrs. 

H was  an  old  servant  of  the  Wheelers',  and 

had  subsequently  been  in  the  employment  of  one 
Betts,  a  glass-cutter  in  Cockspur  Street,  by  whom 
she  had  been  discharged.  One  of  Betts's  appren- 
tices, named  H—  — ,_  had  married  her,  "she  being 

a  handsome   woman";   and  upon   Jack   M 

opening  his  business  of  procuring  Miss  Wheeler 
for  the  Prince,  she  readily  consented  to  the  plot, 

1 10 


THE  ELUSIVE   QUAKERESS 

"which  her  previous  familiarity  rendered  easy." 
The  Wheelers,  it  seems,  allowed  their  daughter 
to  go  out  with  this  woman,  who  arranged  interviews 
between  Miss  Wheeler  and  the  Prince,  gradually 
removed  the  girl's  clothes  and  trinkets,  and 
planned  the  elopement,  which  duly  took  place, 
"  and  old  Mrs.  Wheeler  never  recovered  from  the 
shock;  she  descended  to  the  grave  with  a  broken 
heart,"  as  well  she  might. 

Jack   M ,   we   are   told,   was   handsomely 

rewarded,  and  it  must  be  confessed  his  reward 
took  a  surprising  form.  One  supposes  he  got  a 
comfortable  sum  of  money  as  well,  but  "one  of 
his  relatives  was  appointed  teacher  of  English  to 
Queen  Charlotte,  and  another  became  a  bishop." 

As  for  Mrs.  H ,  her  share  was  £500,  and  her 

husband,  thus  enriched,  joined  another  apprentice 

by  the  name  of  S ,  and  set  up  in  Cockspur 

Street  in  the  glass-cutting  way,  where  they  main- 
tained a  successful  rivalry  with  the  excellent  and 
unoffending  Betts,  who  was,  in  fact,  the  only 
respectable  person  mentioned  in  the  business. 
Never  was  vice  so  triumphant,  or  suffering  virtue 
so  trampled  on  before. 

"  Such,"  concludes  T.  G.  H.,  "is  the  history  of 
this  elopement,  which  I  received  from  my  mother's 
relations,  who  had  peculiar  means  of  knowing  the 

facts,  as  also  from  a  fellow-apprentice  of  H 's, 

one  Stock,  who  kept  the  Lion  and  Lamb  at  Lewis- 
ham."  He  adds  that  "  it  was  generally  supposed 
that  the  fair  Quaker  was  kept  at  Lambeth,  or  some 

in 


other  village  on  the  south  of  the  Thames,  because 
Prince  George  was  often  seen  to  ride  over  West- 
minster Bridge.  He,  however,  had  heard  that "  she 
dwelt  with  a  farmer  at  Knightsbridge,  who  sup- 
plied the  royal  family  with  asses'  milk."  He 
pointed  out  the  fairly  obvious  fact  that  those  who 
made  the  Prince  encounter  Hannah  in  passing  to 
and  from  the  Parliament  House,  could  have  no 
knowledge  of  the  town  and  of  the  situation  of  her 
father's  shop.  He  might  have  added  that  Prince 
George  was  seldom  or  never  at  "the  Parliament 
House  "  before  he  came  to  the  throne.  T.  G.  H. 
explains  the  change  of  name  by  giving  as  his 

opinion  that  "  Mrs.  H 's  maiden  name  may 

have  been  Lightfoot,  and  that  the  Wheelers 
would  naturally  use  that  name  in  relating  the 
story,  which,  perhaps,  led  to  some  confusion."  It 
certainly  did. 

Phillips  here  intervenes  with  an  editorial.  "  We 
give  ready  insertion  to  the  above,"  he  says,  "but 
still  rely  on  the  communication  from  '  Warmin- 
sterensis,'  which  describes  her  as  Wheeler's  niece 
and  the  wife  of  Axford." 

This  was  no  doubt  taken  as  a  word  of  encour- 
agement by  that  authority,  who,  as  he  justly 
claimed,  had  opened  the  subject  in  the  Monthly 
Magazine,  and  was  entitled  to  a  further  hearing. 
He  now  wrote  as  "W.  H.,"  Warminster,  but  his 
final  letter  led  to  a  distinct  darkening  of  counsel. 
"  It  is  certain,"  he  says,  "  that  the  fair  Quaker's 
name  was  Hannah  Whitefoot,  not  Wheeler."  He 

112 


THE  ELUSIVE   QUAKERESS 

knew  Axford's  niece,  it  seems,  "  and  showed  her 
only  yesterday,"  the  long  and  discursive  specula- 
tions of  T.  G.  H.  That  lady  admitted  the  topo- 
graphical accuracy  of  the  site  of  the  shop,  and  of 
the  way  the  Prince  got  a  vision  of  the  girl  on  his 
frequent  visits  to  the  Opera  House.  She  was 
married,  however,  to  put  a  stop  to  these  frequent 
visits,  Axford  having  paid  her  attentions  when  he 
was  shopman  in  Ludgate  Hill.  The  pair  lived 
together  for  a  fortnight  or  three  weeks,  "  when  she 
was  one  day  called  out  from  dinner,  put  into  a 
chaise  and  four,  carried  off,  and  Axford  never  saw 
her  again.  It  was  reported  that  the  Prince  had 
several  children  by  her,  one  or  two  of  whom  be- 
came generals  in  the  army.  When  Axford,  many 
years  later,  married  a  second  wife,  and  it  was 
reported  that  Hannah  was  still  living,  "the  late 
Lord  Weymouth,  on  inquiry,  asserted  that  she  was 
not  then  living." 

This  prattling  correspondence  was  even  yet  not 
complete.  In  December  of  1822,  another  corre- 
spondent still,  "  Curiosus "  of  Clapham,  obliged 
the  public  with  a  further  communication.  He 
remembered  Axford  the  grocer  at  the  corner  of  the 
Old  Bailey,  and  had  dealt  with  him  nearly  half-a- 
century.  He  was  "a  heavy,  silent  man,  who 
would  never  communicate  a  word  on  the  subject. 
The  marriage  had  been  arranged  by  an  eminent 
surgeon  of  that  day,  and  he  doubted  any  living 
together  of  Hannah  and  her  husband  after  the 
marriage.  There  were  a  few  children "  by  the 
H  113 


IN   THE   DAYS   OF  THE   GEORGES 

Prince ;  "  one  was  in  the  army,  but  never  became 
a  general  officer."  "Curiosus"  then  mentions  a 
second  Quaker  lady  who  had  a  strong  hold  on  the 
affections  of  the  royal  Adonis,  "but  the  attempt 
was  instantly  and  peremptorily  discountenanced 
by  the  lady." 

Here,  then,  at  last  ends  the  Lightfoot  story,  as 
it  developed  under  the  care  of  the  industrious 
Phillips  in  his  precious  Monthly  Magazine  up  to 
the  year  1822,  and  the  most  superficial  examina- 
tion of  the  evidence  adduced  (always,  be  it  noted, 
that  of  neighbours,  or  cousins  or  relatives  at 
second  or  third  hand)  by  these  witnesses  to  the 
truth,  who  were  inspired  by  the  death  of  the  old 
King  to  come  forward  and  tell  the  editor  all  about 
it,  reveals  a  most  amazing  specimen  of  the  story 
of  Cock  and  Bull.  It  will  be  seen  that  none  of 
these  people  come  forward  under  their  own  names, 
that  few  of  them  agree  upon  the  name  of  the 
Quakeress,  still  less  upon  the  more  important 
question  of  marriage  or  no  marriage,  or  date  and 
place  of  the  ceremony,  if  admitted.  So  far,  in- 
deed, as  plausibility,  still  less  proof,  is  concerned, 
the  Lightfoot  legend  had  not  advanced  in  the 
least  in  December  of  1822  from  the  original  crude 
innuendo  of  the  Citizen  of  nearly  half-a-century 
earlier.  It  was  destined,  however,  to  enter  upon 
another  phase  in  connection  with  the  miserable 
controversy  which  raged  about  the  life  and  death 
of  Queen  Caroline,  the  unfortunate  queen  of  King 
George  the  Fourth. 

114 


THE  ELUSIVE   QUAKERESS 

In  1824  was  published  a  pamphlet  entitled  An 
Historical  Fragment  relative  to  her  late  Majesty 
Queen  Caroline,  which  was  printed  anonymously, 
but  the  author  of  which  offered  to  come  forward 
in  the  event  of  his  statements  being  challenged. 
The  piece  is  a  temperate  defence  of  King 
George's  ill-used  queen,  or  at  least  one  quite  tem- 
perate in  comparison  with  the  heated  polemics 
which  were  commonly  employed  in  attacking  or 
defending  the  character  of  that  hapless  lady.  The 
author  was  manifestly  well  instructed  in  the  events 
of  the  time,  and  was  quite  clearly  in  some  sort  of 
official  relation  to  the  late  Queen.  His  mention  of 
the  Lightfoot  story  is  only  incidental,  and  he  him- 
self was  obviously  among  the  sceptics;  but  his 
remarks  are  of  interest  as  showing  that  Queen 
Caroline  was  so  convinced  of  its  truth  that  she 
felt  her  own  position  was  strongly  affected  by  its 
consequences. 

;'  The  Queen  at  this  time,"  says  the  author, 
"  laboured  under  a  very  curious  and,  to  me,  un- 
accountable, species  of  delusion.  She  fancied 
herself  in  reality  neither  a  queen  nor  a  wife.  She 
believed  his  present  Majesty  to  have  been  actually 
married  to  Mrs.  Fitzherbert,  and  she  as  fully  be- 
lieved his  late  Majesty  to  have  been  married  to 
Miss  Hannah  Lightfoot,  the  beautiful  Quakeress, 
previous  to  his  marriage  with  Queen  Charlotte; 
that  a  marriage  between  King  George  and  Queen 
Charlotte  was  a  second  time  solemnized  at  Kew 

under  the  colour  of  an  evening's  entertainment, 
H2  115 


IN   THE   DAYS   OF   THE   GEORGES 

after  the  death  of  Miss  Lightfoot;  and  as  that 
lady  did  not  die  until  after  the  births  of  the  present 
King  and  H.R.H.  the  Duke  of  York,  her  Majesty 
really  considered  the  Duke  of  Clarence  the  true 
heir  to  the  throne.  Her  Majesty  thought,  also, 
that -the  knowledge  of  this  circumstance  by  the 
ministers  was  the  true  cause  of  George  the  Fourth's 
retaining  the  Tory  administration  when  he  came 
into  power." 

The  author  of  the  Fragment  proceeds  to  say 
that  the  Queen  was  so  convinced  of  the  marriage 
of  Prince  George  and  Hannah  that  she  commis- 
sioned him  to  open  inquiries,  and  it  is  interesting 
to  learn  that  among  the  first  of  his  instructions  was 
a  command  from  the  Queen  to  approach  a  Mrs. 
Hancock,  and  ask  that  lady  for  any  information 
she  might  be  disposed  to  give,  "as  she  had  had 
the  pleasure  of  being  intimate  with  Miss  Light- 
foot."  He  did  not,  however,  see  his  way  to  an 
interview  with  that  lady,  though  he  understood 
her  to  be  "  highly  respectable."  But  he  happened 
to  know  an  intimate  friend  of  hers,  whom  he  in- 
duced to  broach  the  subject  of  the  alleged  mar- 
riage to  Mrs.  Hancock,  and  to  ask  her  for  any 
particulars  of  its  circumstances  she  felt  disposed 
to  supply.  The  answer  was  not  at  all  promising. 
Mrs.  Hancock  refused  all  information  to  the  am- 
bassador, and  contented  herself  with  stating  that 
"her  documents  were  in  her  possession."  This 
reply  the  author  sent  to  Queen  Caroline.  He  also 
sent  to  the  same  high  quarter  some  information 

116 


THE   ELUSIVE   QUAKERESS 

obligingly  communicated  to  him  by  a  Sir  W . 

This  was  substantially  the  story  of  the  Monthly 
Magazine,  the  arrangement  of  the  details  by  Miss 
Chudleigh,  the  marriage  at  Keith's  chapel  to 
Axford,  the  spiriting  away  of  the  bride  after  the 
ceremony,  Axford's  second  marriage  to  Miss  Bart- 
leet,  and  the  marriage  of  a  daughter  of  Hannah's 
to  a  Mr.  Dalton  of  the  East  India  Company 
Service  in  Bengal,  where  he  died,  leaving  three 
daughters  of  his  own. 

As  already  stated,  the  author  of  this  Fragment 
refuses  to  vouch  for  the  story,  and  deprecates 
Queen  Caroline's  belief  in  it  as  a  delusion, 
an  attitude  which  increases  one's  respect  for  his 
acumen.  His  statements  of  the  Queen's  case, 
however,  were  apparently  uncontradicted,  for  his 
name  was  not  revealed,  and  from  internal  evidence 
it  seems  very  probable  that  the  Fragment  was 
written  by  Queen  Caroline's  friend  and  champion, 
Alderman  Wood.  Wood  was  much  derided  by 
the  King's  party,  but  he  was  a  responsible  and 
straightforward  man,  twice  Lord  Mayor,  and  an 
energetic  and  fearless  champion  of  what  he  con- 
sidered the  right.  He  acted  as  executor  of  the 
Duke  of  Kent,  and  was  the  first  subject  honoured 
with  a  title  by  Queen  Victoria,  who  conferred  a 
baronetcy  upon  him  in  the  opening  year  of  her 
reign. 

The  author  of  the  Fragment,  Wood  or  an- 
other, points  out  the  remarkable  absence  of  any 
information  upon  three  important  points  in  all  the 

117 


IN   THE   DAYS   OF   THE   GEORGES 

Lightfoot  stories.  Hannah  was  never  personally 
known  or  recognized  by  the  public,  unlike  other 
ladies  in  the  same  relations  with  royalty  of  whom 
history  is  full;  her  residence,  while  alive,  was 
never  known;  and  there  was  no  record  of  her 
death,  though  there  were  vague  rumours  that  she 
died  of  grief  in  the  parish  of  St.  James's,  and  was 
buried  under  a  feigned  name  at  Islington. 

The  Historical  Fragment,  as  will  have  been 
seen,  does  not  help  the  story  forward  one  step,  but 
among  the  concluding  remarks  of  its  author  is  one 
which  merits  particular  attention  in  the  light  of 
developments  which  came  later. 

"  I  was  also  required,"  he  writes,  "  to  see  the 
person  who  styles  herself  (whether  justly  or  un- 
justly signifies  little  to  the  subject)  Princess  of 
Cumberland,  to  know  if  any  of  her  real  or  pre- 
sumed documents  contained  reference  to  that 
subject." 

By  the  mention  of  this  "  Princess  of  Cumber- 
land "  we  are  introduced  to  a  remarkable  adven- 
turess whose  doings  filled  a  great  place  in  the 
public  interest  for  some  years  following  1817. 
She  was  a  woman  of  quite  humble  birth,  but  in 
that  year  she  boldly  declared  herself  to  be  of 
the  blood  royal,  and  she  supported  her  pretensions 
for  the  next  ten  years  with  an  energy  which  was 
only  equalled  by  her  impudence.  Her  connection 
with  the  Lightfoot  story  will  duly  appear  after  a 
short  examination  of  her  history,  and  it  will  be 
seen  that  in  her  hands  the  legend  entered  a  final 

118 


THE   ELUSIVE   QUAKERESS 

phase  in  which  it  reached  a  most  surprising  de- 
velopment. Up  to  the  time  that  the  Princess  of 
Cumberland  proclaimed  her  august  lineage,  she 
was  known  to  her  acquaintance  under  the  style  of 
plain  Mrs.  Olivia  Serres,  the  wife  of  Mr.  John 
Thomas  Serres,  the  marine  painter,  about  whose 
birth  and  parentage  there  was  not  the  least  mys- 
tery in  the  world.  All  her  friends  knew  that 
Olivia  was  the  daughter  of  a  house-painter  of 
Warwick,  Robert  Wilmot  by  name,  and  that  she 
was  born  in  that  town  on  the  3rd  of  April  1772,  and 
baptized  at  St.  Nicholas  Church  on  the  i5th  of  the 
same  month.  She  had  a  bachelor  uncle,  the  Rev- 
erend James  Wilmot,  a  man  of  scholastic  tastes 
and  attainments,  a  Fellow  of  Trinity  College, 
Oxford,  and  rector  of  Barton-on-the-Heath,  War- 
wickshire. Much  of  Olivia's  early  life  was  spent 
with  this  uncle,  but  her  father  having  later  moved 
to  London,  she  joined  him  there,  and  at  the  age 
of  seventeen  had  made  the  acquaintance  of  her 
future  husband  by  taking  lessons  in  painting  from 
him  at  her  father's  house.  Serres  then,  and  later, 
enjoyed  a  certain  reputation  in  his  calling,  and  a 
match  was  struck  up  between  him  and  his  pupil, 
whom  he  married  on  the  i7th  of  September  1791,  at 
her  uncle's  church  at  Barton-on-the-Heath.  The 
bride  being  under  age  a  special  licence  was  neces- 
sary before  her  uncle  could  perform  the  ceremony, 
and  Olivia's  father,  Robert  Wilmot,  in  making 
application  for  this,  swore  by  affidavit  that  he  was 
her  natural  and  lawful  father. 

119 


IN   THE   DAYS   OF  THE   GEORGES 

The  marriage  was  not  a  success,  and  Olivia  and 
her  husband  separated  in  1804,  tne  unfortunate 
painter  having  been  practically  ruined  by  her  ex- 
travagance. Olivia  herself  seems  to  have  been 
an  artist  of  a  certain  ability ;  she  exhibited  both  at 
the  Royal  Academy  and  at  the  British  Institution, 
and  by  some  chance  introduction  to  a  member  of 
the  royal  family,  she  was  enabled  to  obtain  the 
appointment  of  landscape  painter  to  the  Prince  of 
Wales.  This  was  in  1806,  and  the  connection  was 
one  of  which  she  made  full  use  later. 

Olivia's  flighty  character  soon  appeared.  In 
1809  she  had  the  impudence  to  open  a  correspond- 
ence with  the  Prince  of  Wales,  in  which,  while 
begging  pecuniary  assistance  herself,  she  oblig- 
ingly offered  to  lend  his  Royal  Highness  the  sum 
of  £20,000.  She  also  turned  her  hand  to  other 
sorts  of  writing — poems,  didactic  essays  like 
Olivia's  Letters  to  her  Daughter,  and  even  theo- 
logical dissertations  such  zsSt.'Athanasius's  Cree'd 
Explained  for  the  Advantage  of  Youth.  But  she 
was  not  long  contented  with  harmless  exercises 
of  this  description.  Her  uncle,  the  rector,  had 
died  in  1808,  and  she  began  operations  which 
proved  later  to  be  of  a  very  wide-reaching  nature, 
by  attempting  to  make  a  mystery  of  the  life  of  that 
excellent  divine.  In  1813  she  published  a  Memoir 
of  James  Wilmot,  D.D.,  in  which  she  represented 
him  as  a  person  of  political  and  social  importance, 
and  as  a  proof  of  his  intellectual  and  political 
accomplishments  had  no  hesitation  in  attributing 

120 


THE   ELUSIVE   QUAKERESS 

to  him  the  authorship  of  the  Letters  of  /unius,  a 
ridiculous  claim  which  she  later  supported  by 
evidence  in  handwriting  which  was  obviously 
forged.  But  another  claim  she  made  in  1813  was 
her  chef  cTceuvre.  In  that  year  she  presented  a 
solemn  petition  to  the  King  in  which  she  claimed 
to  be  the  daughter  of  Henry  Frederick,  Duke  of 
Cumberland,  his  Majesty's  own  brother.  The 
petition  was,  of  course,  ignored,  but  upon  the 
death  of  George  the  Third  in  1820  she  amplified 
her  pretensions  in  a  memorial  addressed  to  his 
son,  in  which  she  assumed  the  title  of  Princess 
Olive  of  Cumberland.  In  order  to  support  her 
claim,  Mrs.  Serres  drove  about  in  a  hired  carriage 
bearing  the  royal  arms,  placed  her  servants  in  the 
royal  livery,  and,  to  seal  the  matter,  had  her- 
self rechristened  at  Islington  Parish  Church  in 
September  of  1821  as  "Olive,  daughter  of  the 
Duke  of  Cumberland  and  of  Olive,  his  first 
wife." 

This  claim  of  Olivia's  was  only  finally  elabor- 
ated after  a  number  of  tentative  pleadings,  but  it 
was  eventually  set  forth  and  explained  as  follows, 
and  was  supported,  as  will  be  seen,  by  some  amaz- 
ing documentary  evidence. 

Dr.  James  Wilmot,  it  seems,  while  at  Oxford, 
instead  of  the  quiet  student  he  appeared  to  the 
world,  was  a  very  human  young  fellow  after  all. 
Stanislas  King  of  Poland  happened  to  come  to 
the  city  during  his  residence  there,  and  the  young 
fellow  fell  in  love  with  his  sister  the  Princess.  He 

121 


IN   THE   DAYS   OF   THE   GEORGES 

was  fortunate  enough  to  gain  the  affection  of  this 
exalted  lady,  whom  he  married  in  circumstances  of 
profound  secrecy.  Their  union  was  blessed  with 
a  daughter,  who  was  placed  under  the  care  of  Dr. 
Wilmot's  sister,  a  Mrs.  Payne,  grew  up  under  her 
guardianship,  and  developed  great  personal  at- 
tractions. At  the  age  of  eighteen  this  young  lady 
enlisted  the  sighs  of  two  no  less  highly  placed 
lovers  than  the  Duke  of  Cumberland  and  the  Earl 
of  Warwick.  Lord  Warwick,  however,  very 
loyally  withdrew  in  the  presence  of  the  greater 
pretensions  of  the  Duke,  and  very  chivalrously 
did  all  he  could  to  forward  the  interest  of  that 
potentate  with  the  young  lady.  This  seems  to 
have  prospered,  for  the  pair  were  duly  married  at 
Lord  Archer's  house  in  London  on  March  the  4th, 
1767,  the  Reverend  James  Addez,  D.D.,  officiat- 
ing. Of  this  marriage,  affirmed  Olivia,  she  was 
the  daughter.  Ten  days  after  her  birth,  however, 
she  was  substituted  for  a  still-born  daughter  of 
Robert  Wilmot,  the  house-painter  at  Warwick, 
whose  reputed  daughter  she  thenceforth  became. 
As  a  fact,  she  said,  she  had  the  blood  of  two  royal 
families  in  her  veins.  Her  grandmother  was  the 
sister  of  the  King  of  Poland,  and  her  father  the 
brother  of  his  Majesty  King  George  the  Third, 
while  the  eminent  divine  of  Barton-on-the-Heath, 
scholar,  Fellow  of  Trinity,  Oxon.,  and  bachelor, 
was  no  bachelor  at  all,  but  her  own  unworthy 
grandpapa. 

This  enterprising  lady  was  arrested  for  debt  in 
122 


THE   ELUSIVE   QUAKERESS 

1821,  and  it  then  occurred  to  her  to  resist  the 
proceedings  on  the  plea  of  her  royal  blood,  which, 
if  admitted,  would  protect  her  from  arrest  in  civil 
cases.  In  the  course  of  these  proceedings  she 
produced  what  purported  to  be  an  early  will  of 
George  the  Third,  witnessed  by  the  Earl  of  Chat- 
ham and  by  Dunning  the  law  lord,  and  bequeath- 
ing £15,000  to  "  Olive,  the  daughter  of  our  brother 
of  Cumberland."  This  will  she  endeavoured  to 
get  before  the  King's  Proctor,  but  the  court  held 
it  had  no  jurisdiction.  Like  many  other  impostors, 
however,  Olivia  succeeded  in  getting  reputable 
people  to  interest  themselves  in  her  cause.  Among 
these  was  Sir  Gerald  Noel,  who  in  1823  presented 
a  petition  to  Parliament  from  the  "  Princess  of 
Cumberland,"  and  moved  for  a  committee  of  in- 
quiry. The  motion  was  seconded  by  Joseph 
Hume,  but  Sir  Robert  Peel  described  Mrs.  Serres's 
claim  as  baseless,  and  the  motion  was  negatived 
without  a  division.  Olivia's  husband,  the  marine 
painter,  died  in  the  King's  Bench  Prison  in  1825, 
and  in  his  will  took  occasion  to  repudiate  his  wife's 
claims  as  preposterous.  Olivia  spent  the  rest  of 
her  days  in  difficulties,  and  herself  died  in  the 
same  prison  in  1834. 

Such,  then,  were  the  credentials  of  the  lady 
who,  as  it  appears  from  the  remark  of  the  author 
of  the  Historical  Fragment,  had  some  connection, 
occult  or  other,  with  the  Lightfoot  story.  This 
connection,  indeed,  appeared  abundantly  in  the 
annals  of  the  year  1832,  when  was  published  that 

123 


IN   THE   DAYS   OF   THE   GEORGES 

extraordinary  and  scandalous  series  of  libels  en- 
titled Authentic  Records  of  the  Court  of  Eng- 
land, which  appeared  under  the  auspices  of  J. 
Phillips,  334,  Strand.  The  authorship  of  these 
libels  was  for  some  time  attributed  to  Lady  Anne 
Hamilton,  the  Lady  in  Waiting  to  Queen  Caro- 
line, which,  however,  that  lady  strenuously  denied. 
They  have  since  been  traced  to  the  door  of  Mrs. 
Serres,  and  are  now  accepted  as  from  her  hand, 
either  wholly  or  in  part.  The  character  of  this 
production  may  be  estimated  by  the  contents  set 
out  in  the  preface.  These  include  such  headings 
as  "The  Bigamy  of  George  the  Third";  "The 
Unaccountable  Death  of  King  George  the  Third's 
eldest  Brother " ;  "  The  Infamous  and  Cold- 
blooded Murders  of  Princess  Charlotte  and 
Caroline  Queen  of .  England."  It  was  in  com- 
pany such  as  this,  and  under  the  auspices  of  the 
woman  the  bare  outline  of  whose  career  we  have 
given,  that  the  Lightfoot  story  was  revived  in 
1832. 

That  story  now  assumed  a  lurid  glow  before 
which  the  relatively  harmless  prattle  of  the 
Monthly  Magazine  paled.  According  to  Olivia, 
Prince  George,  smitten  by  the  charms  of  the 
Quakeress,  made  no  attempt  to  conceal  his  pains, 
but  feeling  that  his  happiness  depended  "upon 
receiving  that  lady  in  marriage,  sounded  every 
individual  in  his  immediate  circle,  or  on  the  list 
of  the  Privy  Council,  to  ascertain  who  was  most 
to  be  trusted  to  bring  it  about."  He  at  last  con- 

124 


THE   ELUSIVE   QUAKERESS 

fided  his  aspirations  to  his  brother,  the  Duke  of 
York,  and  to  "  another  person."  In  the  presence 
of  these  two  he  was  married  at  Curzon  Street 
Chapel,  Mayfair,  in  1759,  and  the  marriage,  says 
the  authoress,  "was  productive  of  issue."  After 
his  accession  in  1760  the  young  King  took  his 
ministers  into  his  confidence,  made  a  clean  breast 
of  his  proceedings,  and  received  the  comfortable 
assurance  "  that  no  cognizance  should  be  taken  at 
any  time  upon  his  late  unfortunate  amour  and 
marriage."  He  was  recommended,  however,  to 
enter  into  another  alliance  without  loss  of  time, 
advice  which,  as  we  know,  resulted  in  the  arrival 
of  the  Princess  Charlotte  of  Mecklenburg  Stre- 
litz,  and  the  wedding  at  St.  James's  on  the  i8th 
of  September  1761.  "His  Majesty's  brother 
Edward,  who  was  present  at  the  marriage  with 
the  Quakeress,  was  now  also  present,  and  did 
certainly  use  his  every  endeavour  to  support  the 
King  through  this  trying  ordeal,"  is  Mrs.  Serres's 
comment  on  that  ceremony. 

The  Earl  of  Abercorn  and  Lord  Harcourt,  how- 
ever, found  it  necessary  to  inform  the  young 
Queen  of  the  existence  of  her  husband's  other 
wife,  and  advised  her  "to  inform  herself  on  the 
policy  of  the  Kingdoms,"  in  order  to  be  sure  "  that 
her  issue  might  uninterruptedly  possess  the 
throne."  George  and  Charlotte  were  thus  both 
consumed  with  anxiety,  "the  first  for  love  and 
remorse  in  not  having  avowed  the  only  wife  of 
his  affections,"  the  last  because  she  feared  that  the 

125 


IN  THE   DAYS   OF  THE   GEORGES 

King  was  guilty  of  bigamy,  "and  that  her  pro- 
geny would  be  known  to  be  illegitimate."  Mean- 
while, the  ministers  seized  Hannah  unknown  to 
the  King,  spirited  her  away,  gave  a  large  sum  to 
"  a  young  gentleman  named  Axford  "  to  marry  her, 
but  would  give  the  King  no  hint  of  her  where- 
abouts. Mrs.  Serres's  finest  stroke,  however, 
makes  his  Majesty  fly  for  help  to  the  austere 
Chatham,  and  that  imperious  figure  is  represented 
as  prowling  about  London  in  disguise,  searching 
in  vain  for  George's  lost  love.  After  this,  we  are 
not  surprised  at  anything.  What  more  natural 
than  that  Queen  Charlotte  should  think  all  would 
be  right  if  she  were  married  a  second  time  to  her 
husband  ?  So  our  old  friend  Dr.  Wilmot  is  trotted 
out  again,  and  composes  the  Queen's  fears  by 
uniting  her  a  second  time  to  the  gay  George  at 
Kew  Palace  in  the  presence  of  the  faithful  Duke 
of  York.  In  all  the  circumstances  set  forth  by 
Mrs.  Serres,  it  is  highly  probable  that  the  King 
had  but  a  heavy  time  with  Queen  Charlotte,  and 
one  is  disposed  to  agree  with  her  when  she  sug- 
gests that  the  King's  first  mental  illness  was  due  to 
the  situation  in  which  he  found  himself.  "  During 
these  lapses  of  memory,"  concludes  Olivia,  "he 
was  most  passionate  in  his  requests  that  the  wife 
of  his  choice  should  be  brought  to  him." 

Such  was  Olivia's  contribution  to  the  Lightfoot 
tradition,  obviously  a  concoction  of  the  story  as 
set  forth  in  the  Monthly  Magazine,  to  which,  pos- 
sibly, Olivia  herself  was  a  chief  contributor,  but 

126 


THE  ELUSIVE   QUAKERESS 

flavoured  to  meet  the  tastes  of  the  readers  of 
the  Authentic  Record.  It  is,  perhaps,  not  sur- 
prising to  find  that  even  such  a  tale  as  this  was 
found  good  enough  for  another  journalistic  enter- 
prise. Upon  the  republication  of  the  precious 
"  Record,"  in  1841,  with  some  amendments,  it  pro- 
vided much  lucrative  copy  for  the  industrious 
journalist,  Cyrus  Redding,  who1  in  the  New 
Monthly  Magazine  managed  to  continue  un- 
dimmed  the  glories  of  the  older  periodical,  whose 
pages  we  have  had  to  consult  at  such  length. 
Redding  published  his  recollections  of  an  inter- 
view with  William  Beckf  ord,  the  author  of  Vathek, 
potentate  of  Fonthill,  and  son  of  Alderman  Beck- 
ford,  the  friend  and  supporter  of  the  great 
Chatham,  and  the  champion  of  liberty  against  the 
tyranny  of  King  George. 

One's  faith  in  Beckford's  acumen,  however,  is 
shaken  at  the  outset,  when  he  declared  to  Red- 
ding his  belief  that  Dr.  Wilmot  was  the  author 
of  the  Letters  of  Junius.  "  No  one  had  better 
opportunities,"  he  said ;  "  he  was  a  good  scholar,  a 
most  intimate  friend  of  Lord  Chatham,  and  enjoyed 
the  most  exclusive  confidence  of  George  the  Third 
for  consenting  to  marry  him  to  Miss  Lightfoot  in 
1759  at  Kew  Chapel,  William  Pitt  and  Anne 
Taylor  being  the  parties  witnessing,  and,  for  aught 
I  know,  that  document  is  still  in  existence."  It  is 
more  than  doubtful  whether  "  that  document "  was 
in  existence  at  the  time  of  the  alleged  interview 
with  Redding,  but  it  was  duly  forthcoming  when 

127 


IN   THE    DAYS   OF   THE   GEORGES 

it  was  wanted,  and  we  shall  later  be  able  to 
examine  it,  and  quote  the  opinion  of  a  court  of 
justice  on  its  value  and  origin. 

As  already  indicated,  Olivia's  unquiet  spirit  at 
length  found  rest  in  St.  James's  churchyard,  but 
her  claim  was  by  no  means  ended  with  the  closing 
of  her  tomb.  She  left  a  daughter  endowed  with 
a  plentiful  measure  of  her  own  energy  and  trucu- 
lence,  Lavinia  Janetta  Hortense  de  Serres.  This 
lady,  like  her  mother,  married  an  artist,  Mr. 
Antony  Thomas  Ryves,  whom  she  divorced,  and 
whose  name  she  dispensed  with,  and,  upon  her 
mother's  death,  she  assumed  the  style  and  title 
"  Princess  Lavinia  of  Cumberland,  and  Duchess 
of  Lancaster."  Like  her  mother,  again,  the  Prin- 
cess Lavinia  was  fortunate  enough  to  find  the 
support  of  the  amiable  Sir  Gerald  Noel.  They 
filed  a  bill  in  1844  against  the  Duke  of  Welling- 
ton, as  executor  of  the  will  of  King  George  the 
Fourth,  for  an  account  of  the  £15,000  which  her 
mother  claimed  under  the  alleged  will  of  George 
the  Third.  Lavinia  and  her  adviser  had  no  luck 
in  the  courts,  but,  still  undaunted,  she  in  1858  pub- 
lished "  An  appeal  to  Royalty,  a  letter  addressed 
to  her  Most  Gracious  Majesty  Queen  Victoria, 
from  Lavinia,  Princess  of  Cumberland  and 
Duchess  of  Lancaster." 

In  this  piece,  the  Lightfoot  legend  attained  its 
zenith,  and  the  reason  for  the  adoption  of  the 
venerable  lie  by  the  interesting  Olivia  and  Lavinia 
is  at  last  made  clear.  Among  a  great  many  other 

128 


THE  ELUSIVE   QUAKERESS 

documents  of  equal  value  set  out  in  the  Appeal 
is  the  following — 

"  George  R.  .Whereas  it  is  our  royal  command 
that  the  birth  of  Olive  the  Duke  of  Cumberland's 
daughter  is  never  made  known  to  the  nation 
during  our  reign,  but  from  a  sense  of  religious 
duty  we  will  that  she  be  acknowledged  by  the 
royal  family  after  our  death,  should  she  survive 
ourselves,  in  return  for  confidential  service  ren- 
dered ourselves  by  Dr.  Wilmot  in  the  year  1759. 

"  (Signed)     CHATHAM. 
"  WARWICK. 

"  KEW  PALACE,  May  2nd,  1773. 

"Endorsed — London,  1815. 

"  Delivered  to  Mrs.  Olive  Serres 
by  WARWICK. 

"  Witness — EDWARD  (i.e.  the  Duke 
of  Kent)." 

The  confidential  service  rendered  by  Dr.  Wilmot 
is  also  explained ;  his  help,  indeed,  seems  to  have 
been  invaluable,  for  he  was  obliging  enough  to 
marry  George  and  Hannah  twice  over  in  the  same 
year.  The  Appeal  contains  what  purport  to  be 
two  certificates  of  the  marriages ;  the  first  is  repre- 
sented as  having  taken  place  at  "  Kew  Chapel " 
on  the  1 7th  April  1759,  and  is  signed  "George 
P."  and  "Hannah";  the  second  "at  their  resi- 
dence at  Peckham"  on  27th  May,  1759,  the  parties 
then  signing  as  "  George  Guelph,  and  Hannah 
Lightfoot."  "  J.  Wilmot"  professes  to  have  been 
the  officiating  priest  at  both  ceremonies,  and  both 
1  129 


IN   THE   DAYS   OF  THE   GEORGES 

documents  are  signed  by   "William   Pitt"  and 
"  Anne  Taylor,"  as  witnesses. 

Lastly  there  is  a  cry  from  the  suffering  Hannah 

herself. 

"  HAMPSTEAD,  July  yth,  1768. 

"  Provided  I  depart  this  life,  I  recommend  my 
two  sons  and  my  daughter  to  the  kind  protection  of 
their  royal  father,  my  husband,  his  Majesty  George 
the  Third,  bequeathing  whatever  property  I  may 
die  possessed  of  to  such  dear  offspring  of  my  ill- 
fated  marriage.  In  case  of  the  death  of  each  of 
my  children,  I  give  and  bequeath  to  Olive  Wilmot, 
the  daughter  of  my  best  friend,  Dr.  Wilmot,  what- 
ever property  I  am  entitled  to,  or  possessed  of  at 
the  time  of  my  death.  Amen. 

"  (Signed)     HANNAH  REGINA. 

"Witness — J.  DUNNING. 

"WILLIAM  PITT." 

The  Appeal,  as  might  be  expected,  failed  alto- 
gether to  move  Queen  Victoria,  but,  by  a  great 
stroke  of  luck  for  all  parties,  the  Declaration  of 
Legitimacy  Act  of  1861  enabled  the  indefatigable 
Lavinia  at  last  to  bring  her  case  into  a  court  of 
law.  In  1866  she  petitioned  the  court  to  declare 
that  the  Duke  of  Cumberland  and  Olive  Wilmot 
were  lawfully  married,  and  that  Olive  Serres  was 
their  legitimate  daughter.  In  order  to  establish 
her  case,  Lavinia  produced  some  seventy  docu- 
ments, including  those  set  out  above.  But  before 
Sir  Roundell  Palmer,  the  late  Lord  Selborne,  had 
finished  his  address  for  the  Crown,  the  jury 
stopped  the  case,  and  declared  the  whole  batch 
to  be  "  impudent  forgeries." 

130 


"z-J/n 


n.  H,,'ff*r /„//.'. 
&   ' 


^V 

,/// 


Tffjtr&ynS]  > 

S  (^ 


THE   ELUSIVE   QUAKERESS 

After  the  exposure  encountered  by  the  Light- 
foot  tradition  in  the  course  of  these  proceedings, 
it  would  seem  superfluous  to  refer  further  to  a 
bubble  so  effectually  pricked.  It  will  be  recalled 
that  during  a  career  of  nearly  a  century  this  amaz- 
ing and  impudent  libel  had  been  justified  by  no 
shred  of  documentary  evidence  upon  which  the 
slightest  reliance  could  be  placed;  that  all  its 
anonymous  propagators  were  disagreed  upon  such 
essential  points  as  dates,  names,  and  the  nature 
of  the  connection  between  the  Prince  and  his 
victim,  or  the  place  or  places  where  it  was  estab- 
lished. The  story,  indeed,  was  obviously  nothing 
but  a  vulgar  scandal,  promoted  originally  by  a  low- 
class  journalist  for  his  own  purposes,  and  propa- 
gated by  others  of  the  same  class  in  succeeding 
generations  for  similar  ends.  It  was  finally  taken 
by  a  needy  adventuress  from  the  dirty  pages  in 
which  it  had  grown  and  flourished,  served  up  with 
improvements  in  the  scurrilous  Authentic  Records 
of  the  Court  of  England,,  embodied  in  preposterous 
Appeals  and  Memorials,  and  put  forward  at  last, 
supported  by  a  whole  series  of  unblushing  for- 
geries in  a  court  of  law,  where  it  was  at  once  blown 
to  atoms  in  1866.  At  that  point  one  would  like  to 
leave  it,  were  it  not  that  the  interest  excited  by  the 
proceedings  of  1866  led  to  another  remarkable 
revival  of  the  story,  and  to  some  equally  remark- 
able researches,  which  resulted  in  the  discovery 
of  the  identity  of  some  of  the  actors. 

This  new  aspect  of  the  matter  arose  from  the 
12 


IN  THE  DAYS   OF  THE   GEORGES 

adoption  of  the  story  of  Prince  George's  amour 
by  a  responsible  man  of  letters.  In  1866,  Mr. 
John  Heneage  Jesse,  who  was  already  known  as 
a  reputable  historian  of  the  lighter  side  of  the 
history  of  the  eighteenth  century,  published  his 
History  of  the  Court  of  George  the  Third.  In  this 
work  he  accepted  the  King's  youthful  intrigue  as 
authentic ;  he  wrote  of  it  as  "  the  early  and  notori- 
ous passion,"  and  set  out  at  length  in  his  pages 
the  version  of  the  Monthly  Magazine,  with  a  few 
variations.  While  admitting  that  the  Secret 
History  was  "  spoiled  by  exaggerations,"  he  gave 
it  as  his  opinion  that  some  of  its  statements  were 
worthy  of  credence,  and  quoted  Cyrus  Redding's 
babbling  account  of  his  interview  years  previously 
with  William  Beckford  in  support  of  that  opinion. 

This  endorsement  of  the  story  by  a  man  of 
Jesse's  standing  raised  the  legend  to  a  higher 
plane  of  discussion  than  it  had  hitherto  occupied, 
and  produced,  also,  a  new  class  of  sceptics,  his- 
torical students  and  antiquaries,  who  are  apt  to 
require  chapter  and  verse  for  statements  confi- 
dently made  by  historical  authors.  At  the  head 
of  these  critics  was  the  erudite  Mr.  Thorns,  the 
founder  of  that  valuable  periodical,  Notes  and 
Queries;  and  in  that  paper,  accordingly,  as  also 
in  the  staid  pages  of  the  'Athetuzum,  the  contest 
raged  afresh. 

It  is  unnecessary  here  to  follow  the  details  of  the 
fight;  to  show  how  Thorns  tore  the  pitiful  story, 
as  we  have  related  it,  to  pieces;  to  see  him,  with 

132 


THE   ELUSIVE   QUAKERESS 

great  solemnity,  tracing  the  movements  of  Lord 
Chatham  on  particular  dates  to  prove  that  he 
could  not  have  been  engaged  in  witnessing 
bigamous  marriages  of  his  sovereign,  and  quoting 
King  George's  own  letters  with  the  same  object. 
On  the  other  hand,  Jesse  stood  gallantly  to  his 
guns,  and  set  himself  to  collect  further  evidence 
in  support  of  his  own  view.  The  result  of  his 
researches  duly  appeared  in  the  Athenceum  of 
June  the  I5th,  1867,  and  it  must  be  confessed  that 
at  first  sight  it  appeared  that  he  had  completely 
vanquished  Mr.  Thorns.  It  is  true  Mr.  Jesse  had 
to  rely,  like  some  of  his  predecessors,  upon  the 
evidence  of  two  cousins  once  removed  of  Hannah 
Lightfoot,  whom  he  was  fortunate  enough  to  dis- 
cover, but  he  succeeded  in  establishing  the  identity 
of  that  long-suffering  damsel  beyond  any  doubt 
whatever.  He  not  only  discovered  a  certificate 
of  her  birth,  but  triumphantly  set  out  in  the. 
Athenaum  a  copy  of  the  certificate  of  her  marriage 
to  Isaac  Axford,  a  document  so  important  that  it 
seems  to  claim  a  place  here. 

''  This  is  to  certify  that  in  the  registers  of  mar- 
riages solemnized  at  Mayfair  Chapel,  which 
registers  are  preserved  in  the  vestry  of  St. 
George's  Parish,  Hanover  Square,  there  appears 
under  date  of  nth  of  December  1753,  the  follow- 
ing entry — 

'  Isaac  Axford,  of  St.  Martin's,  Ludgate,  and 
Hannah  Lightfoot,  of  St.  James's,  Westminster.' 

133 


IN   THE   DAYS   OF   THE   GEORGES 

"As  witness  my  hand  this  nth  day  of  June,  one 
thousand  eight  hundred  and  sixty-seven. 

"JAMES  MACREADY, 
"Curate  of  St.  George's,  Hanover  Square." 

Thus  did  Mr.  Jesse  establish  at  last  the  identity 
of  the  mysterious  Quakeress,  that  of  Isaac  Axford, 
and  the  marriage  of  the  pair  in  1753.  He  estab- 
lishes also  the  fact  that  Hannah  was  twenty-three 
years  of  age  at  the  time  of  her  alleged  abduction, 
and  that  her  royal  lover,  if  such,  indeed,  George 
were,  was  fifteen  when  he  committed  the  supposed 
atrocity. 

The  news  of  Mr.  Jesse's  discovery  was  none 
the  less  a  blow  for  Mr.  Thorns,  but  that  gentle- 
man as  a  painful  searcher  after  the  truth  allowed 
no  personal  disappointment  of  his  own  to  'divert 
him  from  his  pursuit.  With  the  fresh  clues  thus 
afforded,  indeed,  he  set  about  some  researches  of 
his  own,  and  was  rewarded  with  some  very  in- 
teresting results.  The  first  of  these  established 
the  fact  that  Isaac  Axford,  then  described  as  a 
widower,  married  Mary  Bartleet  at  Warminster 
on  the  3rd  of  December  1759.  But  Mr.  Thoms's 
most  interesting  discovery  concerned  Hannah 
Lightfoot  herself.  He  was  so  fortunate  as  to 
obtain  the  assistance  of  the  custodian  of  the 
records  of  the  Society  of  Friends  at  Westminster, 
among  which  is  preserved  a  report  of  some  pro- 
ceedings directly  concerned  with  the  conduct  of 
that  mysterious  young  woman.  The  Friends  who 

134 


THE   ELUSIVE   QUAKERESS 

attended  the  quarterly  meeting  of  the  Society,  held 
on  the  ist  of  January  1755,  were  informed  that 
Hannah  had  broken  the  rules  of  their  order  by 
marrying  one  not  of  their  Society,  by  allowing  her- 
self to  be  married  by  a  priest,  and  finally,  as  was 
understood  "from  current  rumour,"  by  abscond- 
ing from  her  husband.  The  meeting  thereupon 
appointed  a  committee,  whose  names  are  given, 
to  make  inquiries.  In  September  they  reported 
that  they  "  were  informed  by  her  mother  that  she 
was  married  by  a  priest,  but  that  they  were  not 
fully  satisfied  that  she  was  separated  from  her 
husband."  They  continued  their  inquiries,  but 
could  never  get  sight  of  the  elusive  la'dy,  "nor 
hear  where  she  can  be  spoke  with."  Finally,  on 
the  5th  of  March  1756,  the  Society  issued  its  ban 
of  excommunication  in  the  following  terms — 

"Whereas  Hannah  Lightfoot,  a  person 
educated  under  our  own  profession,  and  who  for 
several  years  past  resided  within  the  compass  of 
this  meeting,  did  then  enter  into  a  state  of  mar- 
riage by  the  priest  with  one  not  of  our  order,  which 
is  directly  repugnant  to  the  good  rules  and  orders 
well  known  to  be  established  among  us ;  we  there- 
fore being  desirous,  as  much  as  in  us  lies,  to  clear 
the  truth  which  we  profess  and  ourselves  from  any 
aspersions  which  through  the  misconduct  of  the 
said  Hannah  Lightfoot  may  be  cast  upon  Friends, 
do  hereby  testify  against  such  her  proceedings  as 
aforesaid,  and  dismiss  her  for  the  same  as  one 
with  whom  we  can  have  no  fellowship,  until,  from 
a  penitent  mind  and  a  true  contrition  of  heart,  she 

135 


IN  THE   DAYS   OF  THE   GEORGES 

shall  be  induced  to  signify  her  unfeigned  sorrow 
for  her  offence;  and  that  this  may  be  her  case  is 
what  we  must  truly  desire." 

Here,  then,  at  last,  more  than  a  hundred  years 
after  the  fame  of  her  beauty  brought  her  name 
upon  men's  lips  for  a  brief  period,  comes  to  light 
through  the  controversies  of  two  men  of  letters  all 
that  is  known  of  Hannah  Lightfoot.  We  know 
now  that  she  was  married  at  the  age  of  three-and- 
twenty,  that  her  husband  remarried  six  years  later, 
and  that  she  was  dismissed  from  the  Society  of 
Friends.  Those  are  the  facts  of  her  history  about 
which  there  can  be  no  doubt,  the  rumour  that  she 
had  separated  from  her  husband  in  1756  the 
Friends  failed  to  confirm,  and  they  were  content 
to  dismiss  her  from  their  Society  by  a  decree 
which,  with  all  its  pious  severity,  yet  closes  with 
something  like  a  benediction.  It  is  unnecessary 
to  labour  the  obvious  point  that  all  that  had  been 
written  about  her  doings  and  her  connection  with 
King  George  for  a  century  was  the  mere  surmise 
of  scandal,  which  is  as  applicable  to  the  King  as 
it  is  to  the  equator.  She  may  have  been  abducted, 
or  she  may  have  deserted  her  husband,  but  the 
fact  that  Axford  married  again  within  less  than 
six  years,  at  a  time  when  bigamy  was  a  capital 
offence,  is  strong  presumption  that  he  was  then 
convinced  of  her  death.  The  evidence,  if  such 
it  can  be  called,  which  would  connect  the  names 
of  Prince  George  and  Hannah  Lightfoot  would 
fail  to  convict  a  Rochester  or  a  Casanova  of  the 

136 


THE  ELUSIVE   QUAKERESS 

commonest  intrigue ;  still  less,  surely,  will  it  brand 
as  adulterer  or  bigamist  a  shy  and  awkward  boy 
of  fifteen  whose  youth  was  watched  over  by  the 
most  careful  of  mothers  and  the  most  jealous  of 
politicians;  a  prince,  moreover,  who,  when  at  last 
he  emerged  as  King  of  England,  became,  as  the 
husband  of  Queen  Charlotte,  a  pattern  of  domestic 
virtue. 

As  to  Hannah  Lightfoot,  it  would  seem  that 
she  has  disappeared  again  into  the  darkness,  with- 
out leaving  a  clue  by  which  one  can  even  guess 
at  her  destiny.  There  is,  however,  just  a  pos- 
sibility that  some  light  may  eventually  be  thrown 
upon  her  history  from  a  source  which  is  indicated 
in  that  monumental  bibliography  of  works  relating 
to  the  Society  of  Friends  published  by  Mr.  Joseph 
Smith  in  1867.  In  the  supplement  to  that  work 
appears  the  following  reference  to  a  manuscript, 
the  resting-place  of  which,  however,  is  not  given  : 
"  Biographical  notice  of  Hannah  Lightfoot,"  by 
Joseph  Smith. 

In  conclusion,  it  may  be  mentioned  that  it  is 
possible  the  features  of  this  mysterious  girl  have 
been  preserved  in  a  contemporary  portrait.  Dur- 
ing the  interest  excited  by  the  controversy  between 
Mr.  Thorns  and  Mr.  Jesse  it  was  stated  that  her 
portrait,  by  Reynolds  or  Gainsborough,  was  in  the 
possession  of  the  Sackville  family  at  Knole.  In 
reply  to  an  inquiry  by  Mr.  Jesse  in  1867,  Lord  De 
la  Warr,  who  then  owned  the  picture,  wrote  as 
follows — 

137 


IN   THE   DAYS   OF  THE   GEORGES 

"  In  the  general  catalogue  of  the  pictures  at 
Knole  the  portrait  in  question  is  designated  as 
being  that  of  '  Mrs.  Axford,  the  fair  Quakeress/ 
by  Sir  Joshua  Reynolds,  and  in  a  private  list  of 
pictures,  bought  by  the  third  Duke  of  Dorset,  this 
picture  is  found  with  the  description  above.  Be- 
yond this,  the  Dorset  family  have  no  history  of 
the  picture." 


138 


Ill 

A    ROYAL   ROMANCE 


i39 


Ill 

A    ROYAL   ROMANCE 

As  old  King  George  the  Second  was  taking 
the  air  in  Kensington  Gardens  one  fine  summer 
morning  in  1750,  a  little  girl  of  some  five  years, 
who  was  walking  with  her  sisters  and  the  Swiss 
nurse,  broke  away  from  the  party,  skipped  up  to 
the  King,  dropped  a  curtsey,  and  greeted  him 
with  the  remark,  "  Comment  vous  pvrtez-vous,  M. 
le  roi  ?  Vous  avez  id  une  grande  et  belle  maison, 
riest-ce  -pas?  "  The  old  King,  familiar,  and  per- 
haps bored,  with  the  pomp  and  etiquette  of  his 
usual  relations  with  his  subjects,  was  pleased 
beyond  measure  at  the  originality  of  this  intro- 
duction. He  took  notice  of  the  child,  often  had 
her  to  visit  him  at  the  palace  afterwards,  even 
romped  with  her,  and  put  her  in  a  large  china  jar, 
where,  instead  of  showing  fright,  she  sang  Mal- 
brouck  s'en  va-t-en  guerre  at  him  from  under  the 
lid.  The  little  lady  was  Lady  Sarah  Lennox; 
and  as  daughter  of  the  Duke  of  Richmond,  a 
great  officer  of  the  court,  she  and  her  sisters  had 
the  privilege  of  being  in  the  gardens  to  see  the 
royal  promenade.  It  was  the  prettiest  entrance 

141 


IN  THE   DAYS   OF   THE   GEORGES 

imaginable  into  the  great  world  where  this  young 
lady  was  destined  for  a  time  to  play  a  great  part. 
Ten  or  a  dozen  years  later  all  fashionable  London 
was  agog  with  excitement,  wrote  letters,  reported 
every  movement  and  every  rumour  of  Lady  Sarah, 
for  it  was  the  question  of  1761  whether  she  was  or 
was  not  to  become  Queen  of  England. 

Any  one  who  reads  much  in  the  annals  of  the 
picturesque  eighteenth  century  cannot  fail  to  be 
struck  with  the  smallness  of  the  English  society 
which  controlled  matters  in  those  days.  You  may 
take  the  account  of  their  times  by  any  of  the 
recording  angels  of  that  period — from  Hervey, 
who  sneered  at  most  of  what  he  saw  at  the  court 
of  George  the  Second;  to  Wraxall,  who  expiated 
some  of  his  false  entries  in  the  King's  Bench — 
and  find  that  the  doings  of  a  few  well-born 
families  provided  them  all  with  the  bulk  of  their 
diverting  gossip.  It  was  essentially  the  age  of  a 
few  great  names.  A  Walpole,  a  Pulteney,  a 
Pelham  perhaps,  two  Pitts,  and  two  Foxes  were 
the  great  figures  in  politics  during  the  reigns  of 
three  Georges.  The  members  and  connections  of 
a  few  other  great  families  rang  the  changes  for  a 
century  on  all  the  public  offices  and  fat  sinecures 
—from  the  Court  to  the  Custom  House.  The 
army  and  the  navy  were  officered  from  the  same 
class,  and  it  was  only  in  the  higher  walks  of  the 
law  that  the  outsider  got  a  chance.  Even  the 
law  came  to  be  the  happy  hunting-ground  of  a 
few  energetic  Scotsmen  like  Murray  and  Wedder- 

142 


A  ROYAL   ROMANCE 

burn  and  Erskine,  who  got  most  of  its  prizes. 
Fashionable  and  official  England,  in  fact,  was  a 
small  coterie,  whose  members  were  known  to  each 
other  personally,  and  were  connected  by  ties  of 
marriage  or  relationship  or  interest,  which  bound 
the  whole  body  into  a  compact  homogeneous  mass. 
The  men  were  to  be  found  within  the  limits  of  two 
or  three  clubs — White's  almost  alone  during  the 
early  part  of  the  century,  and  with  Almack's  or 
Brooks's,  and  perhaps  Boodle's,  during  the  second 
half.  The  wives  and  daughters  of  these  men  were 
the  great  ladies  of  society,  who  lived  and  died  in 
a  few  great  country  houses  and  a  few  great  town 
mansions,  danced  and  flirted  at  Ranelagh  and 
Vauxhall,  and  went  to  court  when  they  were 
young,  and  to  Bath  when  age  and  rheumatism 
overtook  them.  Half-a-dozen  great  portrait 
painters,  with  Reynolds  and  Gainsborough  and 
Romney  at  their  head,  painted  the  England  of  the 
eighteenth  century — or,  at  any  rate,  the  part  of  it 
which  really  counted. 

The  family  of  which  the  little  lady  whose  youth 
we  recall  was  the  youngest  daughter  but  one  was 
of  the  very  pick  of  this  restricted  society.  Her 
father,  the  second  Duke  of  Richmond,  a  seigneur 
of  the  very  highest  ton,  stood  close  to  royalty 
itself.  Whenever  the  King  went  over  to  Han- 
over, either  to  make  love  to  his  numerous  lady 
friends  in  that  kingdom,  or  to  fight  valiantly,  and 
shake  his  fist  in  the  enemy's  face,  as  he  did  at 
Dettingen,  the  Crown  was  put  in  commission,  of 

H3 


IN   THE   DAYS   OF   THE   GEORGES 

which  the  duke  was  a  member.  His  duchess  was 
a  Cadogan,  and  his  own  high  rank  and  the  pro- 
mise and  abilities  of  his  son  made  the  family  of 
Lennox  one  of  the  very  highest  consideration  in 
the  kingdom. 

There  was  another  family  which  by  its  energy 
and  ability  had  established  itself  firmly  in  the 
small  world  of  which  we  write.  From  the  time 
that  old  Sir  Stephen  Fox,  a  strange  compound  of 
integrity  and  suppleness,  founded  the  family  for- 
tunes at  the  court  of  Charles  the  Second,  until 
the  genius  of  the  race  burnt  out  with  the  life  of 
Charles  James  Fox  in  1806,  one  or  other  of  the 
Foxes  had  contrived  to  keep  himself  before  the 
very  face  and  eyes  of  the  country.  The  repre- 
sentative of  the  family  at  the  time  we  are  recalling 
was  the  son  of  the  second  marriage  and  of  the  old 
age  of  Sir  Stephen,  Henry — or,  as  he  was  known 
at  White's  and  the  House  of  Commons,  Harry — 
Fox.  A  year  or  two  before  little  Lady  Sarah  was 
born,  the  Lennox  and  Fox  families  had  become 
allied  by  marriage.  The  Lennoxes  supplied  the 
breeding,  and  the  Foxes  the  abilities,  which 
appeared  in  such  splendour  in  the  person  of 
Charles  James  Fox  in  the  next  generation.  We 
know  so  much  now,  but  the  marriage  at  the  time 
was  considered  a  mesalliance  of  the  most  heartless 
and  hopeless  kind. 

It  was  in  1744  that  Harry  Fox — a  prominent 
man  in  the  debates,  it  is  true,  and  a  brother  of 
Lord  Ilchester,  but  still  a  younger  son — dared  to 

144 


A  ROYAL   ROMANCE 

run  away  and  conclude  a  secret  marriage  with 
Lady  Georgina  Caroline,  eldest  daughter  of  the 
Duke  of  Richmond.  It  was  a  marriage  of  defi- 
ance. The  duke  and  duchess  knew  of  the  attach- 
ment, and  had  provided  another  match  for  the 
young  lady.  The  young  lady,  with  much  spirit, 
shaved  off  her  eyebrows  to  make  herself  unpre- 
sentable to  the  new  swain.  Mr.  Fox  pressed  his 
suit  all  the  harder,  got  a  special  licence,  and  pre- 
vailed upon  the  young  lady  to  accompany  him  to 
the  house  of  his  friend  Sir  Charles  Hanbury 
Williams,  and  fashionable  and  official  London 
was  convulsed  when  news  of  the  match  came  out 

Fashionable  and  official  London  was  mostly  at 
the  opera  on  the  evening  of  May  4,  1744,  when 
the  blow  fell.  Amongst  others,  Sir  Charles  was 
there,  and  he  wrote  and  told  Harry  all  about  it 
next  day.  "  From  the  box  where  I  was,"  he  wrote, 
"  I  saw  the  news  of  your  match  run  along  the  front 
boxes  exactly  like  fire  in  a  train  of  gunpowder." 

It  must  have  been  pretty  to  see.  Instead  of 
listening  to  the  dulcet  tones  of  the  Frasi  who  was 
warbling  at  the  footlights  to  an  accompaniment 
of  ogling  from  the  youth  of  White's  in  the  stage 
boxes,  the  ladies  leant  round  the  partitions  of  the 
front  row,  and  passed  the  news  behind  their  fans  : 
"  .The  rage  of  the  duke  and  his  duchess  was  very 
high,"  they  whispered.  "  They  had  put  off  the 
great  ball  fixed  for  the  morrow,  and  had  gone  off 
to  Goodwood."  His  grace  had  written  to  Mr. 
Pelham,  the  Secretary  of  State,  that  Miss  Pelham 
K  145 


and  Lady  Lucy  Clinton  must  not  visit  the  offend- 
ing couple. 

The  house  at  once  resolved  itself  into  two 
factions,  and  dear  pleasant  young  Mr.  Horace 
Walpole,  who  was  thoroughly  at  home  in  such  a 
matter,  hearing  of  the  ducal  ban  on  all  visitors  to 
the  daughter,  went  straightway  to  Williams's  box, 
and  begged  to  know  the  earliest  moment  that  he 
might  be  allowed  to  pay  his  respects  to  that  lady. 

Never  was  such  a  hubbub  in  town.  They  dis- 
cussed the  match  at  tea-tables  and  in  drawing- 
rooms,  and  the  story  of  the  loves  of  Henry  and 
Caroline  was  the  one  subject  of  conversation  and 
dispute.  All  London  wrote  to  the  duke  and 
duchess  with  condolences  "  at  ye  unhappy  affair  " 
with  assurances  of  its  own  innocence  of  all  par- 
ticipation in  the  plot;  and  mostly  with  indiffer- 
ent success.  Mr.  Pelham  wrote;  Lord  Ilchester, 
Harry's  own  brother,  wrote;  Lord  Lincoln  wrote 
an  almost  tearful  letter.  The  Duke  of  Marl- 
borough,  who  gave  the  bride  away,  was  much 
blamed;  and  Williams,  who  provided  the  house 
and  the  parson,  was  held  up  to  execration.  The 
Dukes  of  Grafton  and  Devonshire  had  a  warm 
dispute  at  White's  about  it,  "  the  former  a-tearing 
the  whole  to  pieces,  the  latter  defending  it."  The 
pother  even  spread  to  the  palace,  where  "  Blood 
Royal  had  the  greatest  weight"  against  Harry 
Fox  and  his  bride. 

Some  of  the  cooler  heads  refused  to  take  the 
matter  so  seriously.  There  was  bluff  old  Sir 

146 


A   ROYAL   ROMANCE 

Robert  Walpole,  now  Lord  Orford,  who  "  couldn't 
understand  that  the  nation  was  undone  because 
Lady  Caroline  Lennox  was  married  to  Mr.  Fox." 
Lord  Carteret,  too — the  clever,  cynical  Carteret, 
about  whom  one  imagines  so  much,  and  knows  so 
little — "  diverted  himself  with  it."  No  wonder ! 
He  was  walking  through  the  anteroom  at  Ken- 
sington Palace,  and  saw  the  Duke  of  Newcastle 
and  the  Duke  of  Dorset  in  conference  with  pro- 
digiously long  faces.  They  called  him  to  them, 
said  they  were  talking  about  a  most  unfortunate 
affair,  and  that  they  should  make  no  secret  to  him 
that  they  were  greatly  affected  by  it.  "  Upon 
this,"  says  Carteret,  "  I  thought  our  fleet  or  our 
armies  were  lost,  or  Mons  betrayed  into  the  hands 
of  the  French,  and  at  last  it  came  out  that  Harry 
Fox  was  married,  which  I  knew  before."  Here, 
in  the  King's  palace,  were  his  Secretary  of  State 
and  his  President  of  the  Council  shaking  their 
heads  over  this  wonderful  marriage,  instead  of 
attending  to  the  business  of  the  nation.  It  is  not 
surprising  to  hear  that  the  King  was  "violently 
angry." 

We  recall  so  much  of  Mr.  Fox's  family  history 
because,  as  we  shall  see,  he  and  Lady  Caroline 
stood  almost  in  relation  of  parents  to  the  young 
lady  who  is  the  subject  of  this  paper,  when  her 
own  were  removed  by  death  a  few  years  later. 
Mr.  Fox,  too,  made  great  use  of  his  experience 
in  what  was  held  at  the  time  to  be  a  most  irregular 
and  romantic  affair  when  a  much  more  irregular 
K2  147 


IN  THE   DAYS   OF  THE   GEORGES 

and  romantic  alliance  was  the  burning  question 
of  1761.  Meanwhile  it  is  pleasant  to  read  that 
he  and  his  wife  were  forgiven  by  the  offended 
duke  and  duchess.  The  occasion  was  the  birth 
of  Henry  Fox's  firstborn,  Stephen;  and  the  par- 
don was  conveyed  in  as  quaint  and  touching  a 
letter  as  was  ever  written.  "  Wee  long  to  see  your 
dear  innocent  Child,"  wrote  the  duke  and  duchess, 
"  and  that  has  not  a  little  contributed  to  our  pre- 
sent tenderness  for  you."  So  the  offending  pair 
were  received  back  into  favour,  and  the  alliance 
of  the  Foxes  and  the  Lennoxes  was  at  last 
acknowledged  and  confirmed. 

It  must  have  been  very  shortly  after  we  saw 
little  Lady  Sarah  present  herself  to  George  the 
Second  in  the  garden  that  she  was  left  an  orphan 
by  the  death  of  her  mother  the  duchess.  There 
was  a  family  council  in  1751,  no  doubt,  where  it 
was  decided  that  she  and  her  little  sister  Cecilia 
should  live  out  their  childhood  with  their  married 
sister,  Lady  Kildare,  in  Ireland.  So  they  and 
their  nurses  and  their  dolls  were  packed  off  by 
the  coach,  and  made  the  long  journey  by  the  old 
road  to  Chester  and  Holyhead,  perhaps  returning 
with  my  lady  to  Carton  after  the  season  of  1751. 
For  eight  years,  at  Carton,  Lady  Sarah  breathed 
the  soft  air  of  the  Kildare  plains,  and  perhaps 
acquired  the  wondrous  beauty  of  complexion 
which  was  one  of  her  charms  when  she  came  back 
to  London  a  tall  girl  of  fourteen — the  lustrous 
beauty  of  skin  which  you  may  see  in  the  faces  of 

148 


A  ROYAL  ROMANCE 

the  women  and  children  on  those  same  plains 
to-day. 

In  1758  Lady  Sarah  returned  to  London  and  to 
society,  and  to  the  care  of  Harry  Fox  and  his  wife 
at  Holland  House — as  we  say,  a  tall,  beautiful, 
shy  girl  of  fourteen.     George  the  Second  was 
nearing  the  end  of  his  tether,  but,  possessed  of  a 
taste  for  a  pretty  face  to  the  last,  heard  of  the  new 
young  beauty,  and  expressed  a  wish  to  see  her. 
He  remembered  the  little  girl  of  the  gardens  and 
the  china  jar,  no  doubt.     So  the  tall  shy  girl  is 
carried  to  the  palace,  and  approaches  the  Presence 
— the  Presence  surrounded  by  its  court  and  accom- 
panied by  its  grandson,  the  Prince  of  Wales,  a 
young  man  of  ruddy  countenance  and  straight- 
forward manners,  with  a  receding  forehead  but  a 
monstrously  firm  jaw,  both  features  indexes  of 
some  of  the  events  which  were  destined  to  stand 
out  in  his  long  reign  of  sixty  years.     But  poor 
Lady  Sarah  has  lost  all  her  early  confidence  in 
the  presence  of  royalty ;  she  stammers  and  blushes 
when  his  Majesty  condescends  to  joke  and  poke 
fun  at  her;  his  Majesty  is  disappointed  and  says, 
"  Pooh  !  she's  grown  quite  stupid,"  and  goes  back 
to  his  whist  with  the  Walmoden  who  pulls  the 
chair  from  under  him,  and  amuses  him  generally 
in  a  way  he  can  understand.    But  the  young  Prince 
of  Wales,  like  the  rest  of  the  town,  is  struck  with 
the  beauty  of  the  blushing  girl;  and,  free  for  a 
moment   from   the   tutelage  of   his   mother,   the 
Dowager  Princess,  and  his  groom  of  the  stole, 

149 


IN  THE   DAYS   OF  THE   GEORGES 

my  Lord  Bute,  falls  headlong  in  love  with  Lady 
Sarah. 

The  time  was  ripe  for  the  appearance  of  another 
beauty.  The  incomparable  Gunnings  were  just 
married,  and  the  eldest,  poor  Maria,  was  dying  of 
consumption  at  Croome.  The  young  girl  from 
Kildare  succeeded  these  paragons  and  stepped 
into  their  place  by  common  consent  of  the  town. 
Mr.  Reynolds  painted  her  twice  :  first  at  the  win- 
dow of  Holland  House  with  a  dove,  with  her 
cousin  Lady  Sue  Strangways,  and  her  nephew  Mr. 
Charles  James  Fox,  coming  round  the  corner 
below.  Later  he  painted  her  in  the  classic  manner, 
sacrificing  to  the  Graces.  Both  pictures  are  at- 
tractive enough,  but  for  once  we  feel  that  Mr. 
Reynolds  allowed  the  true  beauty  of  his  subject 
to  escape  him. 

Of  that  beauty  there  can  be  no  doubt.  "  Her 
beauty  is  not  easily  described,"  says  Harry  Fox, 
"otherwise  than  by  saying  she  had  the  finest  Com- 
plexion and  most  beautiful  Hair  and  prettyest  Per- 
son that  ever  was  seen,  with  a  sprightly  and  fine 
Air,  a  pretty  Mouth  and  remarkably  fine  Teeth  and 
excess  of  Bloom  in  her  Cheeks,  little  Eyes,  but  this 
is  not  describing  Her,  for  Her  great  Beauty  was  a 
peculiarity  of  Countenance,  and  made  Her  at  the 
same  time  different  from  and  prettyer  than  any 
other  Girl  I  ever  saw."  Fox  may  be  thought  par- 
tial to  his  sister-in-law,  but  Horace  Walpole  cer- 
tainly was  not.  Yet  Horace  was  thrown  off  his 
guard  by  the  beauty  of  Lady  Sarah.  They  played 

150 


Lady  Sarah  Lennox,  with  Lady  Susan  Strangways 
and  Charles  James  Fox 

From  a  Painting  by  Sir  Joshua  Reynolds 

(By  permission  of  Henry  Graves  &  Co) 


A  ROYAL   ROMANCE 

Jane  Shore  at  Holland  House,  Lady  Sarah  in 
the  title  part,  and  Mr.  Charles  Fox  and  Lady  Sue 
Strangways,  and  Charles's  little  brother  Harry 
dressed  up  as  a  bishop.  "  Lady  Sarah  was  in 
white,"  wrote  Horace,  "with  her  hair  about  her 
ears  and  on  the  ground,  and  no  Magdalen  by 
Correggio  was  half  so  lovely  and  expressive." 

The  town  was  in  raptures,  in  fact,  and  all  the 
young  men  were  making  sheeps'  eyes  at  the  beauty 
of  sixteen.  There  was  my  Lord  Carlisle;  my 
Lord  Errol,  whom  she  refused;  my  Lord  New- 
bottle,  with  whom  she  flirted  desperately;  Mr. 
Thomas  Bunbury,  whom  she  afterwards  married; 
and  no  doubt  a  score  of  others  whose  names  are 
not  recorded.  Last  of  all  there  was  the  Prince  of 
Wales,  now  become  George  the  Third  of  Eng- 
land, who  was  a  willing  victim.  He  saw  Lady 
Sarah  often.  There  was  no  flirtation  here;  the 
King  was  in  deadly  earnest.  There  was  no  stupid 
Royal  Marriage  Act  in  force ;  this  the  King,  per- 
haps in  the  light  of  his  own  experience,  thought- 
fully provided  for  his  relations  when  they  began 
to  marry  into  Horry  Walpole's  family.  But  at 
present,  as  we  say,  the  King  knew  his  own  mind ; 
and  there  is  no  doubt  that,  if  Lady  Sarah  had 
known  hers,  she  might  have  ascended  the  throne 
in  1761  as  Queen  of  Great  Britain  and  Ireland. 

Horace  Walpole  accused  Henry  Fox  of  intrigu- 
ing to  bring  the  match  about,  and  the  remark  is 
a  proof  of  Horace's  sagacity.  Harry  Fox  was  not 
loth  to  see  his  sister-in-law  Queen  of  England,  we 


IN  THE   DAYS   OF   THE   GEORGES 

may  be  sure.  Mr.  Fox  was  the  obedient,  humble 
servant  of  the  court  at  any  time,  and  when,  two 
years  later,  the  court  wanted  some  instrument  to 
bring  about  the  peace  with  France,  they  employed 
Mr.  Fox,  who  did  the  business  by  means  of  a 
bribery  which  made  that  age,  not  at  all  nice  in 
such  matters,  stare  and  gasp  with  wonder,  or  at 
least  that  portion  of  it  which  got  none  of  the 
money. 

Lady  Sarah  was  often  at  court,  and  the  King's 
flame  burnt  brighter  every  day.  There  were  soft 
passages  in  the  windows  of  the  palace,  and  the 
King  at  least  grew  conspicuously  amorous.  But 
George,  one  imagines,  was  a  clumsy  lover — of  the 
blundering,  downright  type.  He  talked  so  quickly 
that  his  words  overran  each  other,  spluttered  a 
good  deal,  and  poked  his  face  very  close  to  the 
person  he  was  addressing.  He  may  have  fright- 
ened the  young  girl;  there  was  certainly  little 
response  on  her  part. 

Harry  Fox  was  so  interested  in  the  progress  of 
the  affair  that  he  left  a  detailed  account  among  his 
papers  of  what  we  may  consider  its  central  inci- 
dent. "  On  Thursday,"  says  he,  "  Lady  Susan 
[Strangways]  was  at  Court  with  Ly  Albemarle, 
Lady  Sarah  on  the  other  side  of  the  room  with 
Ly  Car.  Fox."  The  young  King  went  up  to  Lady 
Sue  and  asked  her  when  she  would  return  to  town 
from  Somersetshire,  where  he  heard  she  was 
going.  '  *  Not  before  winter,  Sir/  said  Lady  Sue. 
*  Would  you  like  to  see  a  Coronation  ? ' 
152 


A  ROYAL  ROMANCE 

"  '  Yes,  Sir,  I  hope  I  should  come  to  see  that.' 

" '  Won't  it  be  a  much  finer  sight  when  there  is 
a  Queen  ? ' 

" '  To  be  sure,  Sir.' 

" '  I've  had  a  great  many  applications  from 
abroad,  but  I  don't  like  them,'  added  his  Majesty, 
'  I  have  had  none  at  home,  I  should  like  that 
better.' 

"  Lady  Sue  was  frightened,  and  said  nothing," 
records  Mr.  Fox. 

" '  What  do  you  think  of  your  friend,  you  know 
who  I  mean.  Don't  you  think  her  fittest?  ' 

"'Think,  Sir?'  said  the  frightened  girl. 
'  I  think  none  so  fitt,'  says  the  King. 

He  then  went  across  the  room  to  Lady  Sarah, 
bade  her  ask  her  friend  what  he  had  been  saying, 
and  make  her  fell  all.  She  assured  him  that  she 
would. 

"H.M.  is  not  given  to  joke,"  comments  Mr. 
Fox,  "and  this  would  be  a  very  bad  joke  too. 
Is  it  serious  ?  Strange  if  it  is,  and  a  strange  way 
of  going  about  it." 

"  The  next  Sunday  sennight,"  continues  Mr. 
Fox,  "  Lady  Sarah  go's  to  Court,  out  of  humour 
and  had  been  crying  all  the  morning."  The  fact 
is  the  poor  girl  was  bewildered.  The  fascinating 
Newbottle,  with  whom  she  was  flirting  so  hard, 
was  too  much  in  her  mind  to  allow  her  to  think  of 
the  greater  matter  which  was  in  suspense. 

:'  The  moment  the  King  saw  her,"  says  Mr. 
Fox,  "  he  go's  to  her. 

153 


[N  THE   DAYS   OF  THE   GEORGES 

" '  Have  you  seen  your  friend  lately  ?  '  said  he. 

" '  Yes,  Sir.' 
'  Has  she  told  you  what  I  said  to  her  ?  " 

" '  Yes,  Sir/ 

'  What  do  you  think  of  it  ?  tell  me,  for  my 
happiness  depends  upon  it.' 

" '  Nothing,  Sir.' 

"  Upon  which  his  Majesty  turned  upon  his 
heel  and  exclaimed  pettishly,  '  Nothing  comes  of 
nothing/  and  left  the  room." 

Shortly  afterwards  Lady  Sarah  went  into  Som- 
ersetshire, rode  out,  fell  with  her  horse,  and  frac- 
tured her  leg.  The  faithless  Newbottle  made 
some  unfeeling  remark  when  told  of  the  accident, 
the  faithful  King  was  all  solicitude  for  the  suffer- 
ing young  beauty.  He  asked  Conolly  a  hundred 
questions  about  her,  and  Mr.  Fox  was  ready  to 
reply  to  a  hundred  more.  There  had  been  a 
rumour  that  the  King  was  about  to  marry  a  prin- 
cess of  Brunswick,  and  on  a  Sunday  Mr.  Fox 
satisfied  himself  that  the  rumour  was  without 
foundation.  "On  Monday,  therefore,  I  went  to 
Court,"  he  wrote  in  a  memorandum  addressed 
"to  all  whom  it  may  concern."  He  determined, 
he  said,  that  the  King  should  speak  to  him  about 
"  Lady  Sal,"  if  he  could  bring  it  about.  After  "a 
few  loose  questions  "  the  King  supposed  Fox  by 
that  time  settled  at  Holland  House.  "Now  I 
have  you,"  said  Mr.  Fox  to  himself,  and  replied  to 
the  King,  "  I  never  go  there,  Sir;  there  is  nobody 
there." 

154 


A  ROYAL  ROMANCE 

"  Where  then  is  Lady  Caroline  ?  " 
"  In  Somersetshire,  Sir,  with  Lady  Sarah." 
At  the  mention  of  the  name  the  King's  manner 
and  countenance  softened,  we  are  told,  and  he 
coloured  a  little.  Fox  went  on  to  describe  the 
accident — the  fall  on  the  stony  road,  the  horse 
struggling  for  a  moment  to  get  up,  his  shoulder 
grinding  Lady  Sarah's  leg  against  the  stones,  the 
terrible  pain  in  the  coach  before  she  got  to  Mr. 
Hoare's  the  surgeon.  "The  King  drew  up  his 
breath,  wreathed  himself,  and  made  the  counten- 
ance of  one  feeling  pain";  and  Mr.  Fox  says  to 
himself,  "  Thinks  I  you  shall  hear  of  that  again." 
So  he  went  on  to  say  that  she  was  "  chearfull  now 
and  patient  and  good  humoured  to  a  degree,"  and 
so  on,  but  worked  back  to  the  accident  again 
with  richer  details  than  ever,  and  the  King  again 
sucked  in  his  breath  and  changed  countenance 
when  Henry  mentioned  the  great  pain. 

"  Don't  tell  Lady  Sarah,"  he  wrote  to  his  wife, 
"that  I  am  sure  that  he  intends  to  marry  her, 
for  I  am  not  sure  of  it  but  I  am  sure  that  he  loves 
her  better  than  Nfewbottle]  does."  Wisdom  was 
surely  justified  of  her  child  when  this  paper  ap- 
peared in  Princess  Lichtenstein's  book  to  vindi- 
cate Mr.  Walpole's  remark  that  Harry  Fox  was 
intriguing  to  make  his  sister-in-law  Queen  of  Eng- 
land. One  is  inclined,  therefore,  to  believe 
Horace  when  he  declares  that,  when  Lady  Sarah 
had  recovered  and  come  back  to  London,  she 
watched  for  the  King  as  he  rode  in  from  Kew — 

155 


IN   THE  DAYS   OF  THE   GEORGES 

made  hay  at  him,  in  fact,  in  the  grounds  of  Hol- 
land House  "in  a  fancied  habit."  It  may  be; 
who  shall  blame  her  ?  The  account  of  the  King's 
solicitude  lost  none  of  its  beauty  in  Fox's  telling, 
we  may  be  sure;  and  U  affaire  Newbottle  may 
have  been  ended  by  his  unfeeling  jest.  The 
young  girl  at  last,  perhaps,  knew  her  mind;  but 
it  was  too  late.  There  was  more  in  the  rumour 
of  the  Princess  from  Mecklenburg  than  Harry 
Fox  thought.  Others  were  interested  in  the 
King's  evident  penchant  for  Lady  Sarah — Lord 
Bute,  and  the  Princess  Dowager,  and  the  Privy 
Council.  The  conscientious  young  King  sub- 
mitted his  own  personal  feelings  to  the  advice  of 
his  Ministers.  Colonel  Grahame,  who  had  been 
sent  all  over  Europe  to  inspect  the  likely  royal 
spinsters,  reported  favourably  on  Princess  Char- 
lotte of  Mecklenburg-Strelitz,  and  the  royal 
romance  was  at  an  end. 

It  was  all  over ;  there  was  no  doubt  about  it  at 
all.  The  King  summoned  the  Council  to  an- 
nounce the  marriage,  and  Lord  Harcourt  went 
over  for  the  Princess,  and  the  little  self-possessed 
lady  came  across  the  Channel  to  Harwich,  and 
was  not  sea-sick  for  above  half-an-hour,  but  sang 
and  played  on  the  harpsichord  nearly  all  the  way. 
And  when  she  got  to  England  she  was  not  dis- 
mayed by  the  greatness  of  the  occasion  or  the 
splendour  of  the  preparations;  but  she  wondered 
a  little  at  the  number  of  ladies  sent  to  meet  her, 
and  exclaimed,  "  Mon  Dieu,  il  y  en  a  tant!" 

156 


A  ROYAL  ROMANCE 

She  turned  pale  and  her  lip  trembled  a  little 
as  they  approached  the  palace.  But  when  the 
Duchess  of  Hamilton,  the  younger  of  the  incompar- 
able Gunnings,  smiled,  she  recovered  herself  and 
said,  "  My  dear  duchess,  you  may  laugh — you  who 
have  been  married  twice,  but  it  is  no  joke  to  me." 
One  wonders  how  she  knew  so  soon  the  history  of 
Elizabeth  Gunning,  the  "mother  of  dukes,"  and 
how  much  was  told  her  of  the  kindness  of  the 
King  for  Lady  Sarah. 

Poor  Lady  Sarah  !  When  all  this  became  clear, 
she  wrote  the  most  human  of  letters  to  her  friend 
and  confidante,  Lady  Sue,  that  ever  came  from  a 
disappointed  lover.  "To  begin  to  astonish  you 
as  much  as  I^was,  I  must  tell  you  the  [King]  is 
going  to  be  married  to  a  Princess  of  Mecklem- 
bourg  and  that  I  am  sure  of  it.  Does  not  your 
Chollar  rise  at  hearing  this.  ...  I  shall  take  care 
to  shew  that  I  am  not  mortified  to  anybody,  but  if 
it  is  true  that  one  can  vex  anybody  with  a  re- 
served cold  .  .  .  manner,  he  shall  have  it  I  pro- 
mise him.  .  .  .  Luckily  for  me,  I  did  not  love  him, 
only  liked.  ...  I  did  not  cry  I  assure  you.  .  .  . 
The  thing  I  am  most  angry  at  is  looking  so  like 
a  fool,  having  gone  so  often  for  nothing."  And 
so  on,  and  so  forth ;  and  Lady  Sue  is  not  to  men- 
tion it  to  any  one  except  her  father  and  mother, 
Lord  and  Lady  Ilchester,  for  it  will  be  said  that 
they  invent  "  storries,"  and  it  might  do  the  family 
a  lot  of  harm  and  her  no  good. 

Poor  Lady  Sarah ! — and  her  troubles  were  not 
157 


IN  THE   DAYS   OF   THE  GEORGES 

over  yet,  either.  The  King  selected  her  as  one  of 
the  bridesmaids,  "all  beautiful  figures,"  says  Mr. 
Walpole,  "  but  with  neither  features  nor  air,  Lady 
Sarah  was  by  far  the  chief  angel."  The  marriage 
did  not  take  place  till  ten  at  night.  There  was 
the  Princess  in  a  stomacher  of  surpassing  richness, 
"  her  tiara  of  diamonds  very  pretty,"  and  her  violet 
mantle  and  ermine  of  prodigious  heaviness. 
There  were  the  pretty  bridesmaids,  with  Lady 
Sarah  at  their  head,  all  in  a  row;  and  the  King 
had  more  eyes  for  Lady  Sarah  than  for  his  bride 
all  through  the  ceremony.  When  it  was  over,  up 
comes  my  Lord  Westmorland,  the  old  Jacobite, 
who  has  hardly  any  eyes  at  all,  mistakes  Lady 
Sarah  for  the  Queen,  drops  on  one  knee,  and  takes 
her  hand  to  kiss  it ;  Lady  Sarah  has  to  draw  back 
with  a  blush,  and  cry,  "  J  am  not  the  Queen,  sir," 
and  George  Selwyn  utters  that  bitter  jest:  "You 
know,  he  always  loved  Pretenders."  Did  ever 
romance  end  in  such  embarrassment  for  a  poor 
young  girl  of  sixteen? 

Now  it  was  all  over,  Mr.  Fox  again  took  up  his 
pen  to  assure  "  all  whom  it  might  concern  "  that 
there  was  not  much  in  it,  after  all.  When  the 
Princess  was  really  decided  upon,  "  Lady  Sal " 
met  the  King,  it  seems,  and  "  answered  short  with 
dignity,  and  a  cross  look,"  exactly  as  she  had 
promised  in  her  letter  to  Lady  Sue.  :<  To  many 
a  girl,"  continues  Mr.  Fox  sententiously,  "  H.M.'s 
behaviour  had  been  very  vexatious,  but  the  sick 
ness  of  her  Squirrell  immediately  took  up  all  her 

158 


A   ROYAL   ROMANCE 

attention,  and  when  in  spite  of  her  nursing  it 
dy'd,  I  believe  it  gave  her  more  concern  than 
H.M.  ever  did.  That  grief,  however,  soon  gave 
way  to  the  care  of  a  little  Hedge  Hog  that  she 
sav'd  from  destruction  in  the  field,  and  is  now  her 
favourite."  O  sly  Mr.  Fox,  and  happy  Lady 
Sarah  thus  to  be  able  to  bury  her  griefs ! 

It  was  in  the  year  following  the  King's  marriage 
that  Lady  Sarah  threw  in  her  lot  with  one  of  her 
admirers,  and  became  the  wife  of  Sir  Thomas 
Charles  Bunbury,  a  young  man  of  fashion  of  great 
personal  attractions,  a  light  of  the  Macaronies  of 
Almack's  and  White's,  and  noted  among  sports- 
men as  the  owner  of  Diomed,  the  winner  of  the 
first  Derby.  But  the  marriage  was  not  a  success. 
As  was  not  seldom  the  case  in  the  society  of  her 
day,  a  girlhood  closed  too  abruptly  by  an  early 
and  ill-advised  marriage  was  followed  by  a  period 
of  unhappiness  and  unrest.  There  was  much 
scandal  recorded  in  the  memoirs  of  the  time,  in 
connection  with  Lady  Sarah  Bunbury's  name, 
which  we  need  not  repeat  here.  Much  of  it  is 
utterly  unconvincing.  But  her  short  unhappy  mar- 
ried life  with  Sir  Charles  came  to  an  end  with 
proceedings  at  Doctors'  Commons  and  the  House 
of  Lords  in  1776. 

Lady  Sarah  really  began  her  life  only  when, 
five  years  later,  she  became  the  second  wife  of  the 
Honourable  George  Napier,  the  sixth  son  of  the 
fourth  lord.  We  have  taken  her  early  romance  as 
the  subject  of  this  paper,  and  this  second  married 

159 


IN   THE   DAYS   OF   THE   GEORGES 

life  does  not  concern  us  here,  and  yet  it  is  the  part 
of  her  career  one  would  like  best  to  dwell  upon. 
It  is  fully  recorded  in  Lady  Sarah's  own  letters, 
published  within  recent  years  by  the  Countess  of 
Ilchester,  where  may  be  read  a  pleasant  story  of 
great  domestic  happiness,  and  of  the  maternal  care 
which  went  to  the  rearing  of  her  sons  the  heroic 
Napiers — sons  distinguished,  amongst  a  crowd  of 
distinguished  contemporaries,  in  everything  which 
makes  the  fame  of  soldiers  and  gentlemen.  Fate 
was  kinder  to  Lady  Sarah  in  her  age  than  in  her 
youth.  She  lived  to  hear,  from  the  great  general 
of  the  Peninsular  war  himself,  of  the  glory  her  sons 
were  earning  under  his  eye;  and  long  before  her 
death,  in  1826,  she  must  have  been  assured  of  the 
brilliant  fulfilment  of  the  promise  of  their  youth, 
which  is  now  a  precious  page  of  the  history  of  their 
country.  In  the  stirring  times  of  the  opening  years 
of  the  nineteenth  century,  the  romance  and  the  un- 
happiness  of  Lady  Sarah's  youth  were  forgotten 
by  most  of  her  contemporaries.  The  years  as 
they  rolled  on  had  brought  cares  and  anxieties  for 
George  the  Third  in  a  measure  greater  than  for 
most  of  his  subjects.  In  his  blundering,  obstinate, 
but  honest  way,  the  King  bore  a  personal  part  in 
all  the  great  events  of  his  reign,  so  long  as  his 
reason  remained  with  him.  But  he  remembered  his 
first  love  through  them  all.  Years  after  his  mar- 
riage with  the  Queen  he  turned  to  her  in  the  royal 
box  at  the  play  when  Mrs.  Pope,  who  was  reckoned 
like  Lady  Sarah,  came  on,  and  was  heard  to  re- 

160 


A  ROYAL  ROMANCE 

mark,  "  She  is  very  like  Lady  Sarah  still."    Years 
after  this  again,  when  George  the  Third  was  really 
dead  to  every  sense  that  makes  up  human  life, 
deaf,  blind,  bereft  of  reason,  wandering  through 
his  palace  and  dreaming  his  old  life  over  again, 
holding  courts,  reviewing  troops,  opening  Parlia- 
ments, some  who  could  remember  the  royal  ro- 
mance were  reminded  that  it  still  lingered  in  the 
memory  of  its  heroine.    Dean  Andrews  of  Canter- 
bury preached  a  charity  sermon  at  St.  James's 
Church,  in  Piccadilly,  for  the  benefit  of  an  institu- 
tion for  the  blind — founded,  as  he  told  his  hearers, 
by  his  Majesty  at  the  time  his  own  sight  began  to 
fail.    The  Dean  was  eloquent,  and  George  Tier- 
ney,  the  Whig  leader,  who  was  present,  records 
that  his  eloquence  was  heightened  by  the  remem- 
brance of  the  pitiful  condition  of  the  King.    Tier- 
ney  noticed  an  elderly  lady  in  the  seat  immediately 
in  front  of  him,  who  wept  much  at  the  Dean's 
mention  of  the  distresses  of  his  Majesty.    When 
the  sermon  was  ended,  servants  came  for  this  lady 
and  led  her  out  of  the  church,  when  it  appeared 
that  Lady  Sarah  Napier  was  herself  totally  blind. 
It  might  be  interesting,  but  would  certainly  be 
unprofitable,  to  speculate  upon  what  might  have 
happened  in  English  history  had  Lady   Sarah 
Lennox  become  Queen  of  England.    We  all  know 
the  tremendous  part  played  in  the  national  for- 
tunes by  the  personality  of  George  the  Third — a 
personality  moulded,   as  time  went  on,  by  the 
troubles  which  beset  him  in  his  own  family.  Those 
L  161 


IN   THE  DAYS   OF  THE   GEORGES 

troubles,  as  many  believe,  had  much  of  their  origin 
in  the  negative  virtues  of  Queen  Charlotte,  whose 
absolute  devotion  to  the  King  left  little  place  in 
her  heart  for  his  sons.  We  know,  too,  that  Lady 
Sarah's  sons  were  distinguished  above  their  fellows 
in  manliness  and  ability  and  bravery.  But  who 
shall  say  what  might  have  been  her  influence  on 
the  King  and  the  royal  princes  who  might  have 
been  born  to  her,  had  her  warm  and  loving  nature 
shone  upon  the  court,  instead  of  the  prim  and 
cold  personality  of  the  Princess  from  Mecklen- 
burg-Strelitz? 


162 


IV 
A   MAID   OF   HONOUR 


L  a 


163 


IV 
A    MAID   OF   HONOUR 

AMONG  the  first  sitters  of  young  Mr.  Joshua 
Reynolds  when  he  set  up  his  easel  in  his  native 
county  of  Devon,  and  began  to  paint  the  features 
of  many  of  the  nobility  and  gentry  of  the  west 
country,  was  a  young  lady  whose  charms  the  young 
painter  recorded  with  some  enthusiasm  in  his 
note-book,  and  of  whose  person  he  made  a  very 
pleasing  portrait.  This  young  lady  was  twenty- 
three  at  the  time,  though  she  did  not  look  it,  and 
her  personal  attractions,  including  the  "  shape " 
which  struck  Mr.  Reynolds,  were  the  chief  part  of 
her  fortune.  It  is  true  that  Miss  Elizabeth  Chud- 
leigh  had  recently  been  appointed  maid  of  honour 
to  the  Princess  of  Wales,  but  the  five  hundred  a 
year  attached  to  that  office  was  as  nothing  com- 
pared with  the  wealth  which  was  latent  in  her 
beauty,  and  of  which  she  made  afterwards  the 
fullest  use.  That  beauty,  indeed,  was  such  a  pos- 
session that,  combined  with  other  qualities,  it 
enabled  this  young  woman  to  enter  upon  a  career 
of  which  there  is  hardly  a  parallel  on  record.  For 
self-assertion  carried  to  a  point  of  triumph  which 
brought  great  means  from  the  first,  and,  later, 

165 


IN  THE   DAYS   OF   THE  GEORGES 

enormous  wealth;  for  dare-devil  courage,  which 
laughed  at  legal  obstacle  and  stuck  at  nothing; 
for  unblushing  impudence  in  the  concealment  for 
years  of  faults  which  would  have  ruined  any  other 
woman,  and  enabled  her  to  maintain  her  position 
in  the  first  social  circles  of  her  day,  it  would  be 
hard,  indeed,  to  match  the  career  of  Mr.  Joshua 
Reynolds's  young  sitter,  Miss  Elizabeth  Chudleigh. 

It  is  worthy  of  note,  as  will  abundantly  appear, 
that  it  was  only  during  those  few  years  of  her  early 
life  in  Devon  that  Miss  Chudleigh's  contempo- 
raries could  be  sure  of  addressing  her  by  her 
proper  name.  Her  life  was  really  a  perpetual 
masquerade  for  well  over  thirty  years.  She  mas- 
queraded as  a  maid  of  honour  long  after  she  was 
a  married  woman  and  the  mother  of  a  son;  she 
masqueraded  as  a  duchess  while  she  was  the  wife 
of  an  earl ;  and  she  masqueraded  as  a  widow  while 
her  real  husband  was  still  alive.  Endless  assaults 
were  made  upon  the  various  false  positions  she  occu- 
pied throughout  her  life,  but  she  repelled  them  all, 
and  died  at  last  in  the  possession  of  a  great  estate, 
and  with  reputable  people  among  her  executors. 

Elizabeth  came  of  a  good  west  country  stock. 
There  were  Chudleighs  stirring  in  most  of  the 
great  events  in  those  parts  from  the  time  of  Eliza- 
beth onward.  A  sailor  Chudleigh  was  out  with 
Drake  against  the  Spaniards,  and  played  a  valiant 
part  in  delivering  the  country  from  the  peril  of 
the  Armada;  two  other  Chudleighs,  Sir  George 
and  his  son  James,  did  notable  service  on  the 

1 66 


A   MAID   OF   HONOUR 

Parliamentary  side  during  the  Civil  War,  and, 
later,  for  the  King,  after  certain  unjust  animad- 
versions had  been  made  on  their  defeat  at  Stratton 
Hill.  A  generation  later  produced  a  diplomatist 
Chudleigh,  who  has  a  sort  of  monument  in  ten 
volumes  of  state  papers,  which  are  occasionally 
consulted  by  hungry  historians.  Sir  George's 
younger  brother  Thomas  was  also  in  the  service, 
and,  surviving  the  troublous  times  of  the  Revolu- 
tion, was  solaced  during  his  declining  years  with 
the  Lieutenant-Governorship  of  Chelsea  Hospital, 
and  there  his  daughter,  the  little  Elizabeth,  was 
born  in  the  year  1720.  The  colonel  died  six  years 
later,  leaving  his  wife  and  child  ill  provided  for. 
There  was  a  small  farm  in  the  parish  of  Harford, 
Devon,  which  produced  about  a  hundred  a  year, 
a  little  property  which  Elizabeth  preserved 
throughout  her  life,  and  this  scanty  income  seems 
to  have  been  the  chief  resource  of  her  widowed 
mother  after  the  colonel's  death.  Upon  that  event 
Mrs.  Chudleigh  removed  her  little  establishment 
to  the  west,  and  there  Elizabeth  grew  up,  and  was 
painted  by  young  Reynolds  in  1743  as  one  of  the 
belles  of  that  pleasant  country. 

Had  Elizabeth's  future  distinction  been  even 
guessed  at  in  those  early  days,  we  should  doubt- 
less have  had  some  particulars  of  her  childhood; 
as  it  is,  next  to  nothing  is  known  of  those  years. 
As  she  grew  up  she  showed  promise  of  great 
beauty,  which  was  later  abundantly  fulfilled,  and 
it  is  known  that  she  sustained  an  attack  of  small- 

167 


IN  THE   DAYS   OF  THE   GEORGES 

pox  at  the  age  of  fifteen  without  suffering  much 
loss  of  that  beauty.  Her  first  love  affair  took 
place  at  near  the  same  time,  and,  from  what  we 
know  of  her  subsequent  history,  she  probably 
suffered  as  little  from  that.  Perhaps  the  most 
important  event  of  her  early  life  was  her  accidental 
meeting  with  William  Pulteney,  afterwards  Earl 
of  Bath.  That  gentleman,  the  most  strenuous  of 
the  opposition  which  year  after  year  vainly 
assailed  the  position  of  Sir  Robert  Walpole,  Was 
among  the  most  conspicuous  of  the  political  hench- 
men of  Frederick  Prince  of  Wales.  Mr.  Pulteney 
seems  to  have  met  Elizabeth  at  a  shooting  party  in 
the  west,  and  to  have  been  attracted  in  a  fatherly 
sort  of  way  by  the  beautiful  child.  He  good- 
naturedly  sent  her  books,  tried  to  improve  her 
education,  and  entered  into  a  correspondence  with 
her  on  literary  matters,  from  which,  however,  she 
seems  to  have  profited  little.  According  to  one 
of  her  biographers,  Elizabeth's  natural  vivacity 
stood  in  the  way,  and  Pulteney's  books  and  his 
disquisitions  upon  them  were  little  to  her  taste. 
In  her  own  words,  she  wished  all  she  had  to  deal 
with  to  be  "short,  clear,  and  surprising,"  and 
prolix  stories  or  voluminous  authors  bored  her  to 
death,  as  they  have  bored  young  girls  of  her  age 
before  and  since.  Pulteney  probably  obliged  her 
most  when  he  persuaded  her  mother  to  return  to 
town,  and  to  give  the  girl  an  entrance  into  the 
great  world,  in  which  her  youth  and  beauty  might 
have  full  scope.  So  the  mother  returned  to  Lon- 

168 


A   MAID   OF   HONOUR 

don,  took  a  house  in  a  fashionable  part  of  the 
town,  and  added  to  her  resources  by  letting  rooms. 
In  1743  Pulteney  completed  his  benevolence  by 
procuring  Elizabeth  the  appointment  as  maid  of 
honour  to  the  Princess  of  Wales. 

We  see  elsewhere  that  by  this  time  Frederick 
Prince  of  Wales's  relations  with  his  royal  father, 
though  by  no  means  ideal,  had  become  less  un- 
comfortable than  in  former  years;  they  were  at 
last  on  speaking  terms,  and,  consequently,  a  post 
at  his  court  had  greater  opportunities  than  for- 
merly, and  no  longer  carried  with  it  the  certainty 
of  ostracism  at  St.  James's.  Elizabeth,  therefore, 
as  maid  of  honour  to  the  Princess,  was  fairly 
launched  in  the  great  world,  and  entered  upon  its 
possibilities  with  the  greatest  spirit.  We  know 
little  of  the  details  of  life  at  the  Prince's  court 
apart  from  the  manifestly  hostile  criticism  of  Lord 
Hervey  and  Horace  Walpole,  but  one  fact  stands 
out  from  the  gossip  of  the  time  which  is  entirely 
creditable  to  the  Princess;  even  her  husband's 
enemies  combined  to  praise  that  royal  lady,  and  it 
is  safe  to  say  that  no  credible  word  of  scandal  is 
recorded  against  Augusta  Princess  of  Wales,  even 
bearing  in  mind  the  inspired  attacks  against  her 
which  arose  from  the  ascendency  of  Lord  Bute  in 
the  counsels  of  her  son.  It  seems  probable,  there- 
fore, that  Elizabeth's  frolics,  of  which  there  is  an 
amazing  record,  were  carried  on  unknown  to  her 
royal  mistress  at  Carlton  House.  It  is  related 
with  some  humour  that  a  prosperous  coachman  of 

169 


IN  THE   DAYS   OF   THE   GEORGES 

the  Prince,  dying  in  possession  of  a  little  fortune, 
left  it  all  to  his  son  on  condition  that  he  did  not 
marry  a  maid  of  honour.  What  the  date  of  that 
libellous  testament  may  have  been  we  know  not, 
but  we  have  a  list  of  the  other  ladies  who  shared 
with  Elizabeth  the  duties  of  attending  the  Prin- 
cess, and  it  is  but  fair  to  say  that  the  coachman's 
will  was  the  only  evidence  against  them.  Of  Miss 
Albina  Selwyn,  Lady  Elizabeth  Hamilton,  Miss 
Lucy  Boscawen  and  Miss  Lawson,  nothing  but 
good  and  decorum  is  recorded;  of  Elizabeth  her- 
self there  is  another  story  altogether. 

From  the  time  of  her  first  appearance  at  Fred- 
erick's court  there  is  a  tradition  of  the  fascinating 
maid  of  honour's  beauty,  and  of  its  potent  effect 
upon  the  high-born  youth  of  that  day.  Half 
the  eligible  young  men  about  town  were  named 
as  her  suitors,  the  greater  number,  perhaps,  with- 
out any  authority ;  the  constant  ogling  which  went 
on  wherever  Elizabeth  appeared  lent  a  certain 
plausibility  to  the  rumours  in  the  case  of  many, 
but  there  were  others  about  whose  vows  there  was 
no  doubt  at  all.  Of  these  last,  which  are  said  to 
have  included  Lord  Howe,  the  Duke  of  Hamilton, 
a  nobleman  of  the  highest  consideration  but  of 
tender  age,  was  certainly  the  chief.  His  grace,  in 
fact,  was  only  just  nineteen,  and  was  about  to  start 
on  the  grand  tour,  when  Miss  Chudleigh  encoun- 
tered him  and  brought  her  batteries  into  action. 
There  are  no  details  of  the  wooing  on  record 
except  that  the  duke,  sensible  of  his  youth  and 
inexperience,  very  thoughtfully  determined  to 

170 


A  MAID   OF   HONOUR 

finish  his  travels  before  definitely  casting  in  his 
lot  with  Elizabeth.  There  seems,  however,  to 
have  been  a  provisional  engagement  between  the 
pair;  the  duke  started  for  the  continent  with  a 
promise  to  write  to  his  mistress  upon  every  avail- 
able opportunity,  and  the  omens  were  all  reckoned 
favourable  for  a  brilliant  match  for  the  maid 
of  honour  upon  his  grace's  return.  But,  as 
a  fact,  their  love-making  was  not  destined  to 
prosper. 

Soon  after  his  departure,  Elizabeth,  whose 
duties  at  court  seem  to  have  sat  lightly  upon  her, 
and  to  have  permitted  of  frequent  vacations,  went 
off  to  spend  a  great  part  of  the  summer  with  an 
aunt  named  Hanmer,  who  took  her  to  stay  with 
friends  of  her  own,  Mr.  and  Mrs.  John  Merrill,  at 
their  country  house  at  Lainston  in  Hampshire. 
During  this  visit  a  party  was  made  up  for  the 
Winchester  race-meeting,  and  at  the  races  Eliza- 
beth attracted  the  notice  of  a  young  naval  lieu- 
tenant of  twenty  years  of  age,  Mr.  Augustus  John 
Hervey,  who  had  obtained  a  day's  leave  of 
absence  from  his  ship,  the  Cornwall,  Vice-Admiral 
Davers's  flagship,  then  lying  at  Portsmouth,  but 
under  orders  for  the  West  Indies.  Mr.  Hervey 
was  a  member  of  a  very  notable,  if  eccentric,  family, 
that  of  the  Earls  of  Bristol,  and  we  have  already 
made  the  acquaintance  of  his  father,  Lord  Hervey, 
the  husband  of  the  beauteous  Molly  Lepel,  and 
the  confidential  chamberlain  of  Queen  Caroline, 
whose  second  son  Augustus  was.  Hervey  became 
later  a  very  capable  sailor,  one  of  that  crowd  of 
S  171 


IN  THE   DAYS   OF  THE   GEORGES 

able  captains,  indeed,  who  carried  out  the  great 
schemes  of  the  elder  Pitt,  and  helped  to  raise 
England  to  a  position  among  the  nations  of 
Europe  which  she  had  never  occupied  before. 
But  in  spite  of  his  ability  he  seems  to  have  shared 
the  family  eccentricity  to  the  full.  It  was  Lady 
Mary  Wortley  Montagu  who  described  mankind 
as  composed  of  "  men,  women  and  Herveys,"  and 
people  living  in  the  great  world  during  the  middle 
years  of  the  eighteenth  century  were  probably  in- 
clined to  agree  with  her  distinction.  It  was  no 
proof  of  his  eccentricity,  however,  that  Augustus 
should  have  fallen  violently  in  love  with  Eliza- 
beth, which  from  all  accounts  was  the  lot  of  most 
of  the  youth  of  that  day  who  met  her.  There  was, 
perhaps,  less  common  sense  in  his  determination 
to  marry  her  offhand  on  the  very  eve  of  his  sailing 
for  a  lengthy  cruise  in  the  West  Indies. 

In  this  enterprise  Hervey  seems  to  have  been 
very  fortunate  in  the  assistance  he  received  from 
aunt  Hanmer  and  her  friends  the  Merrills.  When, 
later,  Elizabeth's  doings  became  so  famous  that 
all  the  details  of  her  career  were  discussed  with  the 
greatest  relish  by  the  public,  it  was  roundly  stated 
that  Mrs.  Hanmer  intercepted  letters  from  the 
absent  Duke  of  Hamilton  and  suppressed  them  in 
order  to  forward  the  suit  of  the  new  lover.  That 
is  a  statement  very  difficult  of  proof,  but  there  is 
no  doubt  that  she  favoured  young  Hervey's  pre- 
tensions, and  there  is  reason  to  believe  that  she 
was  a  connection  of  his  family  by  marriage.  In 

172 


A   MAID   OF   HONOUR 

any  case  he  found  a  most  complaisant  household 
at  Lainston.  Mr,  Hervey's  first  step  was  to  obtain 
a  few  days'  leave  of  absence  from  his  ship,  during 
which  he  danced  attendance  upon  Elizabeth  at  the 
Merrills'.  There  followed  a  necessarily  short 
Wooing,  during  which  one  supposes  Hervey  to  have 
received  ample  encouragement  from  the  lady,  for 
the  courtship,  the  marriage  to  which  she  consented, 
and  the  honeymoon,  were  all  completed  well 
within  a  week.  It  was  determined  to  keep  the 
match  secret,  for  the  excellent  reason  that  Hervey 
had  no  means  beyond  his  lieutenant's  pay,  and,  in 
the  circumstances,  it  would  clearly  have  been 
flying  in  the  face  of  Providence  for  Elizabeth  to 
forfeit  her  five  hundred  a  year  from  the  Princess 
by  acknowledging  her  change  of  condition. 

The  Merrills'  place  at  Lainston  was  an  ideal 
one  for  an  enterprise  of  this  romantic  character. 
,That  gentleman's  house  was  the  only  one  in  its 
parish,  and  possessed  a  church  all  to  itself  in  his 
garden;  Mr.  Amis,  the  parson,  was  Mr.  M.'s 
obedient,  humble  servant,  and,  as  the  lovers 
decided  to  be  united  at  dead  of  night,  it  was  quite 
easy  to  keep  his  small  establishment  of  five 
servants  in  ignorance  of  the  ceremony.  Mrs. 
Hanmer  and  Elizabeth  had  brought  a  maid  with 
them,  a  young  woman  of  the  name  of  Cradock, 
and  to  her  was  entrusted  the  task  of  guarding  the 
rites  from  interruption  by  the  other  servants,  and 
of  the  prevention  of  any  suspicions  of  what  was 
going  forward,  either  before  or  after  the  cere- 

173 


IN   THE   DAYS   OF  THE   GEORGES 

mony ;  a  task  she  seems  to  have  performed  with 
great  ability.  There  were  all  the  elements  of 
romance  about  what  followed.  Mr.  Hervey,  as  it 
afterwards  appeared,  was  coming  and  going  during 
the  few  days  previous  to  the  wedding,  and  occa- 
sionally obliged  the  ladies  by  taking  them  to 
Portsmouth  and  showing  them  his  ship.  One  day 
in  August  1744,  a  small  party  sat  down  to  dinner 
at  Mr.  Merrill's,  which  included  the  parson,  Mr. 
Amis,  a  Mr.  Mountenay,  and  Mrs.  Hanmer,  and, 
of  course,  Elizabeth  and  Augustus.  The  weather 
was  balmy,  and  the  greengages  ripe,  as  the  maid 
Cradock,  who  had  an  inconvenient  memory,  recol- 
lected many  years  later.  Shortly  before  eleven 
o'clock,  Elizabeth  and  Augustus  went  out  into  the 
garden,  as  if  to  take  the  air,  and  were  followed  a 
few  minutes  later  by  the  rest  of  the  party,  the 
excellent  Cradock,  meanwhile,  being  told  off  to 
keep  the  coast  clear  of  the  other  servants,  who 
were,  however,  mostly  in  bed.  Augustus  and 
Elizabeth  walked  straight  to  the  church,  and  there 
awaited  the  others,  who  soon  arrived,  headed  by  the 
Reverend  Mr.  Amis.  Mr.  Mountenay  cleverly 
provided  the  little  light  necessary  to  the  ceremony 
by  sticking  a  candle  in  his  hat.  With  these  poor 
substitutes  for  the  pomp  and  ceremony  usual  on 
such  joyful  occasions,  the  fateful  service  was  con- 
cluded as  quickly  as  possible,  and  the  wedding 
party  returned  with  all  composure  to  Mr.  Merrill's 
hospitality.  There  was  a  honeymoon  of  two  days, 
after  which  Hervey  returned  to  his  ship  and  sailed 

174 


Elizabeth    Chudleigh,   Countess   of   Bristol 


A  MAID   OF  HONOUR 

to  the  Indies,  and  Elizabeth  resumed  her  place  as 
the  most  ornamental  of  the  maids  of  honour  at  the 
court  of  the  Princess  of  Wales. 

In  some  later  troubles  which  we  shall  have  to 
examine  at  length,  Elizabeth  was  accused  by 
Horace  Walpole  and  others  of  having  destroyed 
the  record  of  this  marriage  in  the  Lainston  regis- 
ter; but  probably  without  any  justification.  It  is, 
indeed,  exceedingly  doubtful  whether  such  a 
document  existed ;  Lainston  was  a  derelict  sort  of 
parish,  where  the  ministrations  of  the  clergyman 
in  any  of  the  offices  of  his  calling  were  seldom 
called  upon,  and  births,  marriages  and  deaths  in  a 
parish  of  one  house  were  obviously  events  of  rare 
occurrence.  To  serve  her  own  purpose,  the  maid 
of  honour  would  certainly  have  suppressed  that 
or  any  other  inconvenient  evidence  without  scruple, 
but  for  the  reasons  stated  there  was,  probably,  no 
necessity  for  so  heroic  a  course.  Elizabeth  later 
professed  to  believe  that  the  ceremony,  as  per- 
formed at  Lainston,  was  invalid  from  its  incom- 
pleteness ;  it  was  such  "  a  scrambling,  shabby  busi- 
ness," she  said,  that  she  was  unwilling  to  take  a 
positive  oath  that  she  was  married  at  all. 

In  the  light  of  what  followed,  it  is  difficult  to 
understand  Elizabeth's  motives  for  entering  into 
this  mad  alliance.  One  of  her  biographers,  who 
appears  to  have  been  generally  well  informed, 
states  explicitly  that  she  was  persuaded  into  the 
marriage  by  Mrs.  Hanmer  in  face  of  her  dislike  of 
young  Hervey^  and  only  consented  out  of  pique 


IN   THE   DAYS   OF   THE   GEORGES 

at  the  supposed  faithlessness  of  the  Duke  of 
Hamilton,  whose  letters  her  aunt  had  suppressed. 
But  from  Elizabeth's  subsequent  record  one  would 
judge  her  a  difficult  subject  for  persuasion  of  any 
sort.  With  her  lately-acquired  post  at  the  Prince's 
court,  which  brought  her  relative  affluence,  and 
with  the  possibility  at  least  of  a  great  match  with 
the  Duke  of  Hamilton  to  fall  back  upon,  there  was 
surely  no  reason  for  her  to  rush  into  any  marriage 
at  all  at  the  age  of  twenty-four.  We  are  therefore 
inclined  to  look  upon  this  folly  as  the  result  of 
the  mutual  passion  of  two  young  and  thoughtless 
people,  and  to  discredit  the  author's  confident 
assertion  that  the  lady  resolved  to  have  nothing 
further  to  do  with  her  husband  so  soon  as  he 
should  have  sailed  with  Admiral  Davers.  It  was 
a  mysterious  business  altogether ;  but  the  one  thing 
certain  it  is  that  Elizabeth  returned  to  her  mother's 
house  in  Conduit  Street  with  no  one  the  wiser  for 
what  had  taken  place  at  Lainston  Church  except 
the  actual  witnesses  of  the  ceremony. 

Hervey  was  away  for  over  two  years,  and  re- 
turned in  October  of  1 746  to  find  his  bride  one  of 
the  most  prominent  figures  in  society.  She  re- 
ceived every  attention  from  Frederick  and  the 
Princess,  and  was  looked  upon  as  the  chief  orna- 
ment of  their  court,  where  one  reads  of  many  little 
pleasantries  in  which  she  was  a  chief  figure.  At 
a  supper  party  in  the  year  of  the  '45,  for  example, 
Frederick  had  a  model  of  Carlisle  Castle  made  in 
sugar,  and  he  and  the  maids  of  honour,  with  the 

176 


A    MAID   OF   HONOUR 

Chudleigh  at  their  head,  bombarded  the  rebels  in 
effigy,  as  it  were,  with  sugar-plums;  Frederick,  in 
a  sarcastic  mood,  even  named  her  as  Minister  of 
War  in  a  memorial  he  drew  up  and  purposed  to 
present  to  the  King,  in  place  of  Mr.  Pitt,  who  had 
incurred  the  Prince's  displeasure  in  taking  that 
post  under  the  court  government.  She  was  prob- 
ably anxious  to  forget  the  folly  at  Lainston  in 
the  midst  of  this  new  success,  and  was  certainly 
not  at  all  enthusiastic  upon  her  sailor's  return. 
There  are  various  accounts  of  her  relations  with 
her  husband  upon  his  reappearance.  One  bio- 
grapher asserts  that  Hervey  only  saw  her  once  at 
his  rooms  with  a  black  servant  in  the  house,  "an 
assignation  with  a  vengeance,"  as  the  lady  herself 
was  accustomed  to  speak  of  the  meeting  in  after 
years.  Other  accounts  make  them  living  together 
for  a  time  at  Elizabeth's  house  in  Conduit  Street. 
This  last  theory  seems  inconsistent  with  her  con- 
tinued retention  of  the  post  of  maid  of  honour  to 
the  Princess,  but  there  were  wonderful  ways  of 
saving  appearances  in  those  days.  This  is  plain 
when  one  reads  the  indisputed  fact  that  in  the 
following  year  Elizabeth  bore  Hervey  a  son.  She 
managed,  however,  to  conceal  the  occurrence  by  a 
retreat  to  Chelsea  for  the  air,  and  there,  attended 
by  Mr.  Caesar  Hawkins,  a  noted  surgeon  of  those 
days,  she  brought  forth  the  boy,  who  was  christened 
at  Chelsea  Old  Church  on  the  2nd  of  November 
1847,  as  "Henry  Augustus,  son  of  the  Honble. 

Augustus  Hervey."     The  child  was  put  out  to 
M  I77 


IN  THE   DAYS   OF  THE   GEORGES 

nurse,  and  died  a  few  months  later,  and  Elizabeth 
returned  to  the  Princess's  court  with  a  renewed 
youth  and  bloom,  and  prepared  to  deny  the  fact 
of  the  baby  altogether.  Rumours  got  about,  but 
Elizabeth  was  quite  equal  to  the  occasion. 
"  Would  you  believe,"  she  said  to  Lord  Chester- 
field at  the  Prince's  court,  "that  they  say  I  have 
had  twins ? "  "I  never  believe  more  than  half 
I  hear,"  was  his  lordship's  reply.  Upon  one  point 
all  the  accounts  are  agreed,  that  Hervey  and  his 
wife  parted  finally  after  the  birth  of  this  child. 

There  were,  no  doubt,  ample  reasons  for  this 
in  the  demeanour  of  the  young  lady,  who  resumed 
her  place  at  the  court  as  the  idol  and  toast  of  the 
town,  and  the  object  of  the  vows  of  a  fresh  bevy 
of  young  men.  Never  was  such  a  fascinating 
creature  from  all  accounts.  Here  was  the  young 
Duke  of  Hamilton  back  again,  as  faithful  as  when 
he  parted  at  Wapping  Old  Stairs  some  three  years 
before.  His  grace  had  an  interview  with  Eliza- 
beth, who  perhaps  explained  that  his  letters  had 
never  reached  her,  perhaps  indicated  the  culprit 
in  Mrs.  Hanmer,  but  who  certainly  gave  the  Duke 
no  hope  of  fulfilment  of  their  engagement.  The 
Duke,  as  is  well  known,  went  off  and  married  Miss 
Elizabeth  Gunning  in  such  haste  at  Keith's  Chapel 
that  he  forgot  to  provide  a  ring,  and  made  shift 
with  one  cut  from  a  curtain  for  the  ceremony. 
The  Duke  of  Ancaster  was  another  highly-placed 
individual  who  shared  the  same  fate  with  the 
Duke  of  Hamilton,  "together  with  several  other 

178 


A   MAID   OF   HONOUR 

noblemen,"  as  we  are  informed.      It  must  have 
been  doomshard  for  Elizabeth  to  be  forced  to 
refuse  so  many  brilliant  offers  by  reason  of  that 
unfortunate  indiscretion  at  Lainston;  her  mother, 
who  was  not  in  the  secret,  thought  her  clearly  out 
of  her  mind.     Hervey  now  began  to  grow  restive, 
and  displayed  a  quite  natural  objection  to  Eliza- 
beth as  the  inspiration  of  all  this  love-making, 
while  he  himself  was  debarred  from  the  pleasure 
of  her  society.     Whenever  his  duties  allowed  of 
his  being  ashore,  he  hung  like  an  unquiet  spirit 
about  all  the  movements  of  his  wife,  appeared  at 
every  rout,  ball,   or  race-meeting  at  which  she 
assisted,  and  followed  her  about  the  country  as  a 
sort  of  attendant  Nemesis  to  avenge  that  early  folly 
at  Lainston.     Here  was  obviously  a  difficult  posi- 
tion for  Elizabeth,  but  there  is  no  reason  to  believe 
that  she  worried  herself  unduly  about  it.     Hervey 
is  said  to  have  threatened  to  make  public  the  mar- 
riage ;  one  set  of  her  critics  declares  that  she  there- 
upon posted  off  to  Lainston,  and,  while  entertain- 
ing Mr.  Amis  with  "  a  funny  story,"  contrived  to 
remove    the    entry    of    her    marriage    from    the 
register;  but,  for  reasons  already  set  out,  it  is 
improbable  that  she  went  to  that  trouble.     Hervey 
then  threatened  to  inform  the  Princess  of  all  the 
circumstances  of  the  marriage.     Elizabeth  is  said 
to  have  parried  this  stroke  by  going  to  her  Royal 
Highness  herself  and  making  a  clean  breast  of  it 
to  that  royal  lady,  who  forgave  her,  pitied  her, 
kept  her  secret,  and  allowed  her  to  remain  in  her 
M  2  179 


IN   THE   DAYS   OF  THE   GEORGES 

post.  The  thing  seems  incredible,  but  not  more 
so  than  some  other  incidents  in  Elizabeth's  amaz- 
ing career.  It  is  quite  certain  that  she  survived 
the  threatened  danger,  and  continued  to  enjoy  to 
the  full  the  advantages  of  her  position. 

King  George  the  Second,  whose  well-known 
gallantry  suffered  no  decline  with  his  advancing 
years,  was  quite  early  attracted  by  the  fascinating 
Chudleigh,  and  the  particular  attention  and  coun- 
tenance of  his  Majesty  had,  doubtless,  much  to  do 
with  the  eminence  in  the  world  of  fashion  which 
she  continued  to  enjoy  until  the  end  of  his  reign. 
Among  the  favourite  diversions  of  King  George's 
later  years  was  the  masquerade,  or  masked  ball, 
an  entertainment  of  Venetian  origin  recently  intro- 
duced to  London  by  Mr.  Heidegger,  in  which  his 
Majesty  took  great  delight,  and  was  accustomed 
to  share  in  disguise  with  the  more  frolicsome  of  his 
subjects.  It  amused  the  old  King  to  be  asked  by 
some  lady  to  put  down  her  teacup,  to  watch  with- 
out being  observed  the  antics  of  the  dancers,  or 
admire  the  eccentricity  of  the  costumes  in  which 
they  arrayed  themselves.  It  is  amazing  to  read  of 
some  of  the  dresses  which  passed  muster  with  the 
highest  society  at  those  revels.  One  gentleman 
went  in  silk  fleshings  as  Adam;  another  in  a 
shroud,  with  a  property  coffin  on  his  back;  a 
third  walked  about  in  a  small  thatched  cottage 
which  bore  the  fire  insurance  company's  badge,  a 
fact  which  inspired  some  humorist  who  was 
present  to  apply  a  light  to  the  thatch.  Among 

1 80 


A   MAID   OF  HONOUR 

the  many  eccentric  figures  at  these  assemblies, 
Elizabeth  was  ordinarily  the  most  extravagant. 
King  George  commanded  a  special  masquerade  in 
her  honour  in  1749,  showed  her  much  attention, 
and  bought  her  a  watch  at  one  of  the  booths  with 
money  from  his  own  royal  purse.  George  was  no 
doubt  pleased  at  the  young  lady's  costume,  though 
all  the  ladies  of  the  town  professed  themselves 
mightily  shocked.  She  went  as  "  Iphigenia  pre- 
pared for  the  Sacrifice,"  and  we  really  hesitate  to 
print  the  description  of  this  dress,  which  Mrs.  Mon- 
tagu, the  chief  of  all  the  bluestockings,  put  upon 
record;  it  may,  however,  be  seen  graphically 
represented  in  the  engravings  of  the  day  by  any 
one  curious  enough  to  search  among  them. 

The  King,  in  fact,  became  almost  a  declared 
lover  of  the  fascinating  creature.  "  He  has  had 
a  hankering  for  her  these  two  years,"  wrote  Wai- 
pole  in  1750,  in  announcing  a  great  triumph  of 
Elizabeth's  in  procuring  for  her  mother  the  post  of 
housekeeper  at  Windsor  Castle.  The  place  was 
worth  £800  a  year,  and  was  the  object  of  the 
aspirations  of  half  the  needy  gentlewomen  in  the 
country.  It  was  known  that  a  vacancy  was  immi- 
nent, and  Walpole  speaks  of  the  appointment  as 
having  been  "  largely  solicited."  There  was  a 
Dra wing-Room  at  St.  James's,  when  the  King  strode 
up  to  the  fair  Elizabeth  and  told  her  "  he  was  glad 
to  have  an  opportunity  of  obeying  her  commands  " 
by  appointing  her  mother  housekeeper  of  Windsor 
Castle.  His  Majesty  added  that  he  hoped  she 

181 


IN  THE   DAYS   OF   THE  GEORGES 

would  not  think  a  kiss  too  great  a  reward  for  his 
gift,  "and,  against  all  precedent,"  says  Horace, 
with  something  like  awe,  "he  kissed  her  in  the 
circle."  Thus  was  poor  widow  Chudleigh  pro- 
vided for,  and  few  would  grudge  her  this  solace 
for  her  years;  one  imagines  she  had  but  a  poor 
time  of  it  at  Conduit  Street  with  that  masterful 
daughter.  The  widow  lived  six  years  to  enjoy  her 
£800  a  year,  and  her  death  is  marked  for  us  by 
another  entry  in  Walpole's  inimitable  record. 
Elizabeth  was  seen  to  shed  some,  let  us  hope, 
natural  tears  at  the  Drawing-Room,  and  Horace 
quotes  one  of  those  facetious  efforts  of  George 
Selwyn,  which  do  not  always  sustain  the  pro- 
digious reputation  for  wit  which  that  gentleman 
enjoyed  during  his  lifetime. 

"What  filial  piety,  what  mournful  grace 
For  a  lost  parent  sits  on  Chudleigh's  face. 
Fair  virgin,  weep  no  more,  your  anguish  smother, 
You  in  this  town  can  never  want  a  mother." 

It  is  difficult  to  ascertain  how  much  or  how  little 
of  Elizabeth's  true  history  was  known  at  this  time. 
It  all  came  out  later,  of  course,  but  at  present  one 
supposes  the  secret  to  have  been  in  very  few 
hands.  Walpole  and  the  other  chroniclers  of  the 
scandal  of  the  day  were  at  present  silent  upon 
details  of  her  life  about  which  they  grew  very 
eloquent  later,  and  were  mainly  occupied  with 
prattle  about  her  appearance,  her  menage,  and 
the  splendour  of  her  entertainments.  Thus,  in 
the  last  year  of  King  George's  reign,  the  maid  of 

182 


A   MAID   OF   HONOUR 

honour,  being  then  in  her  fortieth  year,  gave  a  ball 
of  surpassing  elegance,  at  which  Horace  himself 
was  good  enough  to  assist,  though  he  made  no 
scruple  of  sneering  at  much  that  he  saw.  Eliza- 
beth's splendid  hospitality  was  loyally  exercised 
in  celebration  of  the  young  Prince  George's  birth- 
day. "  Poor  thing,"  says  Walpole,  "  I  am  afraid 
she  has  thrown  away  above  a  quarter's  salary." 
The  Duke  of  York  was  there,  the  foreign  ambas- 
sadors, and  many  other  persons  of  distinction ;  the 
courtyard  of  the  house  was  illuminated,  and  the 
boundary  walls  picked  out  with  battlements  in 
coloured  lamps.  The  whole  affair,  indeed,  by 
Horace's  admission,  was  exceedingly  well  ar- 
ranged, with  no  crowd,  and  no  one  a  moment 
incommoded,  though  the  night  was  sultry.  Miss 
Chudleigh  opened  the  ball  with  his  Royal  High- 
ness, who  was  dressed  in  "  a  blue  watered  tabby," 
and  it  seems  clear  from  the  distinction  she  re- 
ceived in  such  attention  that  whatever  Elizabeth's 
enormities,  they  had  not  affected  her  prestige  in 
the  world  of  fashion  in  1760. 

It  was  just  at  this  time  that  Elizabeth's  feelings 
towards  her  husband  underwent  a  surprising 
change,  which  led  her  into  one  of  the  most  auda- 
cious acts  of  her  audacious  career.  It  is  not  sug- 
gested for  a  moment  that  she  redeveloped  any 
tenderness  for  the  captain,  indeed  she  was  accus- 
tomed to  say  throughout  her  life  that  "  her  misery 
began  with  the  arrival  of  Captain  Hervey  in  Eng- 
land, and  the  greatest  joy  she  ever  experienced 

183 


IN   THE   DAYS   OF   THE   GEORGES 

was  the  intelligence  of  his  departure."  But  his 
brother,  the  Earl  of  Bristol,  fell  seriously  ill,  and 
as  he  was  without  children,  everything  pointed 
to  the  probability  of  Augustus  succeeding  to  the 
earldom  as  his  heir.  It  was  a  false  alarm,  as 
events  turned  out,  for  Lord  Bristol's  death  did  not 
take  place  until  fifteen  years  later,  when  Hervey  at 
last  succeeded  him.  But  the  mere  probability  was 
enough  to  stir  Elizabeth's  ambition;  Hervey,  as 
an  impecunious  captain,  however  able,  was  a  dif- 
ferent person  altogether  from  a  potential  Earl  of 
Bristol,  with  a  fine  mansion  and  a  fine  landed 
estate  in  Suffolk.  It  might,  indeed,  be  worth  while 
to  acknowledge  such  a  husband  as  that,  and  even 
to  share  his  fortunes,  so  Elizabeth  decided  to  have 
the  evidence  of  their  marriage  at  her  disposal  if 
events  should  render  its  production  advisable. 

In  February,  accordingly,  having  obtained 
leave  of  absence  from  the  Princess  for  a  little 
trip  into  the  country,  she  took  the  coach  for  Win- 
chester, and  having  arrived  in  that  city,  engaged 
apartments  at  the  Blue  Boar.  She  only  reached 
Winchester  in  the  evening,  and  by  six  o'clock  the 
next  morning  had  already  dispatched  an  urgent 
message  to  Parson  Amis  requesting  him  to  come 
to  see  her  at  the  inn.  Mr.  Amis,  however,  being 
in  but  indifferent  health,  sent  his  wife.  Elizabeth 
at  once  opened  the  subject  of  her  visit  by  asking 
that  lady  whether  she  thought  the  clergyman  was 
prepared  to  give  a  certificate  of  her  marriage  with 
Hervey,  which  had  taken  place  in  his  church  at 

184 


A   MAID   OF   HONOUR 

Lainston  sixteen  years  before.  The  good  lady 
thought  that  he  would,  but  said  he  was  very  ill. 
Elizabeth  hoped  he  would  make  an  effort  to  see 
her,  and  Mrs.  Amis  then  departed  to  persuade 
her  husband  to  get  up  and  return  with  her  for  an 
interview  with  Elizabeth  at  the  Blue  Boar. 

Meanwhile,  Elizabeth  sent  a  messenger  post 
haste  for  her  old  friend  Mr.  Merrill,  who  very 
obligingly  waited  upon  her.     There  was  a  con- 
sultation   between    these    worthies,    which    was 
joined  by  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Amis  later.    It  was  then 
arranged  that  an  attorney  should  be  sent  for,  and 
Mrs.  Amis  knowing  a  man  of  law  by  the  name  of 
Spearing  in  Winchester,  it  was  decided  to  consult 
him;  Elizabeth,  however,  with  some  natural  diffi- 
dence, thought  it  better  that  she  should  not  appear, 
so  concealed  herself  in  a  closet  which  opened  out 
of  her  room.     Mr.  Spearing  having  arrived,  Mr. 
Merrill  explained  the  business  they  all  had  in 
view,   produced   some   stamped  paper,   and  re- 
quested Mr.  Amis  to  make  the  register  upon  it. 
"Oh,"  said  Mr.  Spearing,  "that  will  never  do; 
the  entry  must  be  made  in  a  book,  and  Mrs. 
Hervey  must  be  at  the  making  of  it."    Elizabeth 
was  then  produced  from  the  cupboard,  and  a 
further    consultation    took    place.      The    useful 
Spearing  knew  where  to  find  a  suitable  book, 
and   went   out   for   it.      To   get   over   the   diffi- 
culty of  the  blank  pages  with  the  single  entry 
of    the    marriage    of    Augustus    and    Elizabeth, 
the  party  bethought  them  of  the  death  of  old 

185 


IN  THE   DAYS   OF  THE   GEORGES 

Mrs.  Merrill,  which  had  occurred  only  a  few 
weeks  before  the  marriage.  The  book  began, 
therefore,  with  that  record,  and  went  on  to  the 
nuptials  of  Elizabeth.  These  entries  having  been 
made  by  Mr.  Amis,  he  handed  the  book  to  that 
lady,  who  expressed  much  gratitude,  saying  that 
"it  might  be  ,£100,000  in  her  way."  She  seems, 
however,  to  have  remembered  that  the  keeping 
of  the  register  is  properly  in  the  hands  of  the  in- 
cumbent of  the  church,  and  handed  it,  before  she 
left,  to  Mrs.  Amis,  with  the  request  that  if  her 
husband  unhappily  died,  she  would  pass  it  on  to 
Mr.  Merrill.  That  event  taking  place  shortly  after- 
wards, Mrs.  Amis  carried  out  her  instructions,  much 
to  Elizabeth's  prejudice,  as  later  events  proved. 

Such  were  Elizabeth's  proceedings  at  Win- 
chester in  February  of  1759,  proceedings  which 
would  appear  incredible  were  they  not  attested  by 
one  of  the  actors  in  sworn  evidence  before  the 
House  of  Lords  some  fifteen  years  later.  It  was 
Mrs.  Amis  herself  who  described  the  manufacture 
of  the  false  register,  and  the  eventual  destination 
of  that  incriminating  document.  After  Mr.  Amis's 
death,  his  widow  married  again,  and  became  a  Mrs. 
Phillips,  the  wife  of  the  steward  of  the  Duke  of 
Kingston,  in  which  capacity  she  had  some  further 
acquaintance  with  Elizabeth.  It  appeared  that 
Merrill  died  in  1767,  and  the  book  remained 
among  the  papers  he  left  behind  him.  One  of 
his  daughters,  looking  through  these,  came  upon 
it  and  handed  it  over  to  the  new  incumbent,  Mr. 

1 86 


A   MAID   OF   HONOUR 

Kinchin.  The  Earl  of  Bristol  having  recovered, 
Elizabeth's  immediate  use  for  the  register  no 
longer  existed,  and  she  seems  to  have  thought  it 
in  safe  hands  with  the  Merrills,  in  any  case.  But 
it  was  found  years  later,  as  we  shall  see,  at  a  very 
inconvenient  moment  for  this  enterprising  lady. 
Meanwhile  she  returned  to  London  in  high  good 
humour,  and  resumed  her  place  as  an  ornament  of 
the  town. 

Walpole,  in  describing  one  of  the  Chudleigh's 
entertainments  in  1760,  ends  with  the  remark;;: 
:<  The  Lord  of  the  festival  was  there,  and  seemed 
neither  ashamed  nor  vain  at  the  expense  of  his 
pleasures.  At  supper  she  offered  him  Tokay ;  on 
all  the  sideboards,  and  even  on  the  chairs,  were 
pyramids  and  troughs  of  strawberries  and  cherries, 
you  would  have  thought  she  was  kept  by  Ver- 
tumnus." 

That  is  a  very  typical  passage  of  the  good 
Walpole,  who  wrote  thus  to  Lord  Stafford  of  the 
lady  whose  bread  he  had  eaten ;  it  is  a  reference  in 
Horace's  lightest  manner  to  Elizabeth's  relations 
with  the  Duke  of  Kingston.  This  was  Evelyn 
Pierrepont^  second  and  last  duke,  a  nobleman  of 
great  estate  whose  titles  and  dignities  fill  pages 
of  the  peerages  of  that  day.  The  Duke  was  an 
amiable  but  shy  man,  totally  unassuming,  and  very 
loth  to  insist  on  the  privileges  of  his  high  station ; 
he  despised  ostentation,  indeed,  to  the  point  of 
folding  back  the  lapel  of  his  coat  in  order  to  con- 
ceal the  star  of  his  order.  He  was  good-natured 

187 


IN  THE   DAYS   OF  THE   GEORGES 

to  weakness,  and  may  be  regarded  as  the  fascin- 
ating Elizabeth's  final  victim.  By  the  year  1760, 
although  the  maid  of  honour  still  kept  her  place 
about  the  Princess  of  Wales,  it  was  known  to  the 
whole  town  that  she  was  the  acknowledged  mis- 
tress of  the  Duke.  The  house  in  Conduit  Street 
was  relinquished  for  other  establishments,  and 
being  in  no  lack  of  funds  in  her  new  circumstances, 
Elizabeth  embarked  in  a  large  scheme  of  building 
in  Knightsbridge,  where  she  erected  a  great  man- 
sion, later  known  as  Kingston  House.  There  is 
no  record  at  all  of  any  rupture  with  the  Princess, 
and  as  Elizabeth  was  received  with  great  cordiality 
by  young  King  George  shortly  after  his  accession, 
it  may  be  assumed  that  even  that  austere  moralist 
saw  nothing  in  her  relations  with  the  Duke  of 
Kingston  at  which  to  look  askance. 

Elizabeth  was  now  near  the  summit  of  her  for- 
tunes, and  felt  her  ambition  would  be  attained  if 
she  could  only  induce  her  lover  to  convert  their 
present  irregular  connection  into  one  of  lawful 
marriage.  The  Duke,  however,  was  somewhat 
coy,  from  all  accounts.  He  had  doubtless  heard 
rumours  of  her  early  connection  with  Hervey,  and 
was  quite  probably  dissatisfied  with  her  explana- 
tion of  it.  At  any  rate  there  were  endless  fetes 
and  entertainments,  at  which  he  presided  with  the 
lady,  frequent  visits  to  Thoresby,  the  ducal  place 
in  the  midlands;  trout  fishing  expeditions  on  the 
Colne,  where  the  maid  of  honour  was  accustomed 
to  guard  against  the  risks  of  wading  by  pouring 

1 88 


A   MAID   OF   HONOUR 

generous  quantities  of  rum  into  her  boots;  every 
sort  of  diversion,  indeed,  except  that  of  the  wed- 
ding in  form.  Elizabeth's  life  was  a  perpetual 
honeymoon,  but  with  the  marriage  itself  at  present 
in  prospect  only,  though  all  London  continued  to 
flock  to  the  banquets,  balls,  and  assemblies  which 
she  continued  to  provide  for  the  town  on  the  most 
lordly  scale,  feasts  furnished  forth  with  rare  wines 
and  costly  service  of  plate  and  fine  linen,  and 
often  with  the  adjuncts  of  fireworks  and  illumina- 
tions, then  less  often  seen  than  in  times  nearer 
our  own. 

Walpole,  with  his  usual  amiability,  is  the  his- 
torian of  what  may  have  been  a  crumpled  rose- 
leaf  for  Elizabeth  in  all  this  glory.  He  declared 
in  1764  that  the  Duke  had  found  a  rival  whom 
he  had  taken  to  Thoresby,  and  that  Elizabeth,  in 
pique,  decided  to  try  a  spell  of  absence  in  order 
to  bring  back  the  Duke  to  her  affections.  "  Miss 
Chudleigh,"  he  says,  "  on  Friday  last  at  the  Prin- 
cess's birthday,  beat  her  side  till  she  could  not 
help  having  a  real  pain  in  it,  that  people  might 
inquire  what  was  the  matter,  on  which  she  notified 
a  pleurisy,  and  that  she  is  going  to  the  baths  of 
Carlsbad  in  Bohemia."  Such  is  Horace's  ex- 
planation of  the  trip  abroad  which  the  Chudleigh 
undoubtedly  took  in  that  year,  which  may  or  may 
not  be  the  true  one,  Horace  must  have  his  sneer 
at  all  costs;  and  on  the  other  side  may  be  re- 
corded the  fact  that  the  Duke  accompanied  the 
lady  to  Harwich,  and  there  took  an  affectionate 

189 


IN   THE   DAYS   OF   THE   GEORGES 

farewell.  Elizabeth  made  Berlin  her  chief  rest- 
ing-place in  the  early  part  of  her  trip,  and  was 
certainly  received  with  all  the  consideration  she 
could  have  expected  in  that  city.  She  went  to  the 
Prussian  court  and  was  presented  to  Frederic  the 
Great,  who  seems  to  have  paid  her  some  little 
attention,  even  wrote  her  little  almost  illegible 
scraps  of  letters,  which  she  was  accustomed  to 
show  with  great  pride  in  after  years.  Had  she 
known  of  other  letters  written  by  his  Majesty  at 
the  same  time,  which  may  now  be  read  in  his  pub- 
lished correspondence,  she  might  have  been  less 
pleased.  "  I  have  not  much  to  say,"  he  wrote  to 
a  lady  friend,  "except  of  the  appearance  of  an 
English  lady,  Miss  Chudleigh,  who  emptied  two 
bottles  of  wine  and  staggered  as  she  danced,  and 
nearly  fell  on  the  floor."  It  may  have  been  Fred- 
eric's influence  which  introduced  the  Chudleigh 
to  the  court  of  Saxony,  or  perhaps  her  position  at 
the  Princes's  court  was  sufficient  to  secure  her  that 
honour.  In  any  case  she  went  to  Dresden  and 
found  a  friend  in  the  Electress,  who  in  later  times 
wrote  to  her  in  very  affectionate  terms.  '  You 
have  long  experienced  my  love,  my  revenue,  my 
protection,  my  everything  you  may  command. 
Come,  then,  my  dear  life,  to  an  asylum  of  peace. 
Quit  a  country  where,  if  you  are  bequeathed  a 
cloak,  some  pretender  may  start  up  and  ruin  you 
by  law  to  prove  it  your  property.  Let  me  have 
you  at  Dresden."  Elizabeth  on  the  whole  made 
a  very  good  thing  out  of  her  native  country,  which 

190 


A  MAID   OF  HONOUR 

the  Electress  thought  so  unworthy  of  her,  and 
was  chiefly  employed  during  half-a-century  in  de- 
priving other  people  of  the  cloaks  and  other 
chattels  to  which  they  were  entitled.  But  her  suc- 
cess in  thus  imposing  upon  the  Electress  as  to  her 
true  character,  may  perhaps  be  regarded  as  proof 
of  ability  of  a  certain  kind. 

It  was  said  by  one  of  many  of  the  scribes  who 
occupied  themselves  with  the  Chudleigh's  affairs 
when  they  became  famous  a  few  years  later,  that 
at  the  time  she  first  contracted  her  irregular  con- 
nection with  the  Duke  of  Kingston  she  succeeded 
in  cajoling  his  grace  into  an  undertaking  to  marry 
her  so  soon  as  she  could  prove  herself  a  free 
woman,  or  to  pay  her  £100,000  down.  That, 
again,  is  a  statement  incapable  of  proof,  and  the 
sum  named  seems  a  high  figure,  whatever  the 
charms  of  the  lady,  and  however  complete  the 
infatuation  of  the  easy-going  Duke.  It  was  stated 
on  the  same  authority  that  after  she  had  succeeded 
in  manipulating  the  Lainston  register  at  the  Blue 
Boar,  she  had  triumphantly  declared  that  she 
could  now  choose  between  being  Countess  of 
Bristol  and  Duchess  of  Kingston.  However  this 
may  have  been,  it  is  clear  that  upon  her  return, 
full  of  renewed  vigour,  from  the  continent,  she 
deliberately  set  herself  to  clear  up  the  rather  nebu- 
lous state  of  her  matrimonial  affairs,  so  as  to 
enable  her  to  ask  the  church  to  bestow  its  blessing 
on  her  union  with  the  Duke.  She  and  her  mature 
lover  had  met  again  with  all  affection  upon  her 

191 


IN   THE   DAYS   OF   THE   GEORGES 

arrival  in  England,  and  she  was  doubtless  at  last 
convinced  of  his  grace's  willingness  to  consent  to 
the  ceremony. 

The  chief  difficulty  now  was  with  Hervey.  Up 
to  a  recent  period  that  gentleman  had  shown  him- 
self extremely  unaccommodating ;  he  had  declared, 
in  fact,  in  his  nautical  way,  "  that  he  would  see  her 
at  the  devil  before  her  vanity  should  be  gratified 
by  being  a  duchess."  But  time  and  chance  had 
brought  an  alteration  in  the  captain's  point  of 
view.  Hervey's  active  service  had  ceased  with 
the  peace  of  1763,  and  though  he  had  still  a  dis- 
tinguished parliamentary  and  official  career  before 
him,  he  was  henceforth  on  shore  with  ample  time 
in  which  to  deplore  the  forlorn  state  of  his  matri- 
monial affairs.  In  such  unpropitious  circum- 
stances he  happened  to  meet  a  young  lady  of 
the  name  of  Moyse — "  Miss  Rhubarb,"  as  Horry 
Walpole  pleasantly  names  her,  in  allusion  to  the 
profession  of  her  father,  a  physician  of  Bath — with 
whom  he  fell  prodigiously  in  love.  Here,  then, 
was  an  obviously  interesting  position.  Hervey 
wished  to  be  free  of  Elizabeth  in  order  to  marry 
the  little  Moyse;  Elizabeth  was  presented  with  an 
elegant  opportunity  of  at  last  gaining  her  Duke. 
They  only  differed  as  to  the  means  of  arriving  at 
the  same  desirable  consummation — the  dissolution 
of  their  marriage  at  Lainston  in  1743. 

Hervey  appears  to  have  opened  the  negotia- 
tions which  followed.  He  happened  to  meet  Mr. 
Caesar  Hawkins,  whom  he  saw  attending  Eliza- 

192 


A  MAID   OF   HONOUR 

beth  at  Chelsea  nearly  twenty  years  earlier,  and 
asked  him  to  call  upon  him,  not,  as  the  captain 
explained,  on  account  of  his  health,  but  in  respect 
of  "  an  old  friend  of  his."  Mr.  Hawkins  made  an 
appointment,  and  duly  waited  upon  Hervey, 
whom  he  found  expecting  him  and  surrounded 
with  a  prodigious  heap  of  law  papers.  After  some 
polite  preliminaries,  Hervey  stated  his  business. 
He  said  that  for  some  time  past  he  had  been  very 
unhappy  on  account  of  his  matrimonial  connection 
with  Miss  Chudleigh,  which  he  was  now  deter- 
mined to  bring  to  an  end.  He  had  employed 
agents,  he  continued,  pointing  to  the  papers,  to 
collect  ample  evidence  for  a  divorce,  and  he  was 
now  determined  to  prosecute  a  suit  with  the  utmost 
firmness  and  resolution.  At  the  same  time,  how- 
ever, he  wished  Mr.  Hawkins  to  assure  Miss 
Chudleigh  that  he  retained  such  a  regard  for  her 
that  he  was  most  anxious  that  no  extraneous 
matter  injurious  to  her  reputation  should  be 
allowed  to  creep  into  the  evidence.  He  suggested, 
therefore,  that  her  lawyers  should  go  through  the 
proofs  of  the  evidence  he  had  collected  with  his 
own,  and  that  they  should  together  agree  as  to 
what  should  be  left  to  come  before  the  House  of 
Lords. 

Mr.  Hawkins  duly  delivered  this  obliging  mes- 
sage to  Elizabeth,  who  in  effect  desired  Mr.  H. 
to  return  to  the  captain  and  thank  him  for 
nothing.  She  was  much  obliged,  she  said,  for  the 
polite  part  of  his  message,  but  as  to  divorce  pro- 
N  193 


IN  THE   DAYS  OF   THE   GEORGES 

ceedings,  she  begged  him  to  understand  that  she 
had  never  acknowledged  him  for  her  legal  hus- 
band at  all,  and  that  she  herself  was  about  to 
institute  proceedings  by  which  she  would  call 
upon  him  to  prove  the  marriage  he  alleged,  or  else 
hold  his  slanderous  tongue  on  the  matter.  But  she 
quite  appreciated  his  kjndly  offer  not  to  drag  into 
his  proposed  suit  any  "  indecent  or  scandalous  re- 
flection," and  in  such  circumstances  was  sure  she 
could  rely  upon  him  not  to  bring  into  his  defence 
to  her  suit  any  extraneous  and  irrelevant  matters 
like  alleged  cohabitation  or  children,  "which 
would  only  give  occasion  for  tittle-tattle  and 
scandal."  She  concluded  by  reminding  Hervey 
that  if  his  freedom  was  all  he  wished,  that  could 
best  be  attained  by  allowing  her  suit  to  go  forward. 
Mr.  Hawkins  delivered  his  message,  and  reported 
that  Hervey  received  it  "  as  one  affected  or  struck 
by  it.  He  added,  as  if  to  himself,  that  he  did  not 
conceive  that  he  should  have  equal  freedom  by 
that  method,"  and  concluded  by  saying  he  had 
no  wish  to  rake  up  any  scandal,  and  would  confine 
his  defence  to  her  suit  to  establishing  the  marriage 
at  Lainston. 

Elizabeth  at  this  juncture  must  grievously  have 
regretted  that  expedition  of  hers  to  the  Blue  Boar 
and  the  concoction  of  the  register,  to  which  at  least 
three  people  living  were  witnesses.  On  the  other 
hand,  it  was  true  that  these  were  all  parties  to  the 
fraud,  and  might  be  trusted  not  to  chatter  for  their 
own  sakes,  and  as  the  accusing  document  was  in 

194 


A  MAID   OF  HONOUR 

the  safe  keeping  of  one  of  them,  the  accommodat- 
ing Mr.  Merrill,  she  no  doubt  felt  reasonably  safe. 
At  any  rate  she  displayed  no  sort  of  hesitation  in 
instituting  her  action.  This  took  the  form  of  a 
suit  in  an  ecclesiastical  court,  for  what  was  known 
as  Jactitation  of  Marriage,  by  which,  if  he  failed 
to  prove  the  ceremony,  Hervey  was  forbidden, 
under  penalty,  from  asserting  that  it  had  ever 
taken  place.  Elizabeth's  evidence  may  still  be 
read  in  the  reports  of  the  Consistory  Court,  and 
amazing  evidence  it  is.  She  swore  that  no  mar- 
riage had  ever  been  solemnized  or  contracted  be- 
tween her  and  the  captain;  that  he  had  at  least 
once  been  asked  to  abstain  from  "  false  and  mali- 
cious boasting  that  he  was  her  husband,"  but  that 
he  continued  with  "  like  malice  and  rashness  con- 
stantly to  report  the  same,  to  the  great  danger  of 
his  soul's  health,  and  to  the  no  small  prejudice 
to  the  said  Honourable  Elizabeth  Chudleigh." 
In  support  of  her  plea,  Elizabeth  swore  that  she 
was  a  maid  of  honour  to  the  Princess  of  Wales 
up  to  the  time  of  the  death  of  the  Prince  in  1751, 
when  she  was  readmitted  to  the  same  appoint- 
ment, where  she  still  continued;  that  she  had 
taken  leases,  transacted  business,  borrowed  £1000 
of  Mr.  Drummond  the  banker,  presented  a  living, 
and  done  various  other  acts  all  in  her  own  name 
as  spinster,  and  without  let  or  hindrance  from  her 
pretended  husband. 

There  was,  indeed,  some  mighty  hard  swearing 
in  this  case,  nor  was  it  confined  to  Elizabeth. 
N2  195 


IN   THE   DAYS   OF  THE   GEORGES 

There  was  never  so  complaisant  a  defendant  as 
Hervey,  and  he  carried  out  his  promise  of  acting 
the  gentleman  not  only  in  the  letter,  but  in  the 
spirit.  He  was  very  tender  as  to  the  lady's  age, 
to  begin  with,  and  his  own,  for  that  matter.  He 
was  a  bachelor  of  seventeen  or  eighteen,  he  said, 
when,  in  1744,  he  paid  his  "addresses  of  love  and 
courtship "  to  the  young  lady  at  Lainston,  who 
might  have  been  some  eighteen  years  at  that  time. 
He  made  a  modest  statement  of  the  circumstances 
of  the  secret  marriage,  but  brought  no  scrap  of 
documentary  evidence  to  prove  it,  and  produced 
no  single  witness.  There  was  no  word  in  his  de- 
fence, be  it  noted,  of  the  child  born,  christened 
and  buried  at  Chelsea.  "  Some  differences  having 
arisen  between  them  on  account  of  the  conduct  of 
the  said  Elizabeth,  they  continued  to  live  separate 
from  each  other,  and  he  had  never  visited  her," 
was  the  captain's  explanation  of  their  present 
relations. 

Hervey's  defence,  indeed,  was  no  defence  at 
all,  and  it  is  not  surprising  to  read  that  the  Vicar- 
General,  Dr.  Bettesworth,  pronounced  a  decree 
in  Elizabeth's  favour,  declared  that  she  was  a 
spinster  free  from  all  encumbrances,  admonished 
Captain  Hervey  to  desist  from  "boasting  and 
asserting  that  he  was  her  husband,"  and  con- 
demned that  gentleman  in  costs  "which  we  tax 
and  moderate  at  the  sum  of  ;£ioo  sterling." 

Hervey's  poor  appearance  in  this  business 
caused  a  good  deal  of  head-shaking  among  the 

196 


A  MAID   OF   HONOUR 

virtuous  ones  in  1769;  some  talked  roundly  of 
collusion,  others,  like  Horace  Walpole,  declared 
sans  -phrase  that  Elizabeth  had  bought  her  hus- 
band off,  and  named  the  sum,  £14,000.  Hervey's 
biographer  admits  that  he  lost  reputation  in  the 
business,  and  if  Walpole's  facts  are  true,  there  is 
little  wonder.  We  learn,  too,  that  he  did  not  get 
his  little  Miss  Moyse  after  all.  Her  father,  the 
physician,  disapproved  altogether  of  the  match, 
and  offered  her  £5000  not  to  marry  Hervey. 
"  Miss  Rhubarb  is  as  much  above  worldly  decorum 
as  the  rest,"  says  Horace,  "and  persists.  It  is 
a  cruel  case  for  Hervey's  family,  who  can  never 
acquiesce  in  the  legitimacy  of  the  children,  if  any 
come  of  this  bigamy."  Horry's  solicitude  for  the 
hard  case  of  the  Hervey  family  was  not  justified, 
for  the  physician  brought  his  daughter  to  reason, 
and  the  bigamy  was  therefore  confined  to  one 
only  of  the  original  actors  in  the  Lainston  cere- 
mony. 

The  maid  of  honour  at  last  surrendered  all  claim 
to  that  title  by  marrying  her  Duke.  "  Next  week," 
says  Horace,  "the  provident  virgin  who  has  ap- 
peared in  Doctors'  Commons  and  sworn  by  the 
virgins  Mary  and  Diana  that  she  was  never  mar- 
ried to  Mr.  Hervey,  and  is  but  fifty,  is  to  be 
married  to  the  Duke  of  Kingston,  who  has  kept 
her  almost  half  that  time."  So  it  proved.  On  the 
8th  of  March  1769,  the  marriage  took  place  by 
special  licence  in  her  house  in  St.  Margaret's 
parish,  Westminster.  There  is  no  adequate  ac- 

197 


IN  THE   DAYS   OF   THE   GEORGES 

count  of  the  ceremony,  but  the  Reverend  Samuel 
Harper  of  the  British  Museum  officiated,  and 
Elizabeth  omitted  no  precautions  this  time,  for 
there  were  eight  witnesses  who  signed  the  register, 
besides  his  reverence.  The  Duke  and  she  were 
described  as  bachelor  and  spinster.  So  we  may 
suppose  Elizabeth  at  last  attained  her  ambition, 
and  that  her  amazing  career  was  accepted  as  quite 
regular  and  respectable  is  clear  from  the  fact  that 
the  Duchess  was  presented  at  court  on  her  mar- 
riage, and  that  King  George  the  Third,  Queen 
Charlotte,  and  the  chief  officers  of  the  household 
all  very  obligingly  wore  her  wedding  favours.  To 
make  this  ceremony  at  St.  James's  the  more  com- 
plete, Captain  Hervey  himself  chose  the  occa- 
sion to  pay  his  respects  to  their  Majesties,  and 
remarked  aloud  to  some  who  stood  near  him,  that 
"he  had  just  come  to  take  one  last  look  at  his 
widow." 

We  now  see  Elizabeth  at  the  height  of  her 
prosperity,  accepted  by  her  sovereign  as  the  wife 
of  a  duke,  an  indulgent  and  weak  duke,  moreover, 
whose  estates  were  not  entailed,  and  who  was  pos- 
sessed of  a  huge  personal  property.  She  was 
destined  to  four  years  of  this  glory,  with  which  we 
have  little  to  do.  She  proved,  as  might  be  ex- 
pected, an  arbitrary  and  exacting  wife,  gave  her- 
self the  greatest  of  airs  (she  called  her  attendants 
"  maids  of  honour  "),  discharged  old  servants  who 
had  served  her  husband  and  his  family  for  years, 
and  made  the  quiet,  easy-going  man's  life  a  misery 

198 


A   MAID   OF   HONOUR 

to  him.  They  continued  to  give  great  entertain- 
ments in  London,  she  had  a  real  fondness  for 
music,  and  her  band  at  Thoresby,  which  used  to 
perform  after  breakfast  while  she  wrote  her  letters, 
was  one  of  the  finest  private  bands  in  the  country. 
The  chief  amusement  of  this  curious  pair  when  in 
town  was  attending  Sir  J.  Fielding's  court  at  Bow 
Street  whenever  a  felon  was  to  be  examined,  and 
where  their  coach  was  well  known.  But  she  very 
thoughtfully  got  the  Duke  to  execute  a  will  in  her 
favour,  so  soon  as  the  bustle  of  the  wedding  was 
over,  and  she  took  other  provident  measures  by 
secreting  all  the  jewels  she  could  lay  her  hands 
upon.  Then,  the  honeymoon,  as  we  know,  having 
been  spent  years  before  the  marriage,  Elizabeth, 
perhaps,  felt  she  would  be  interrupting  no  raptures 
if  she  took  a  second  trip  abroad.  She  had  a 
special  carriage  built  for  this  purpose  by  Mr. 
Wright  of  Long  Acre,  with  most  extraordinary 
and  ingenious  conveniences  for  long  journeys, 
and  started  off  with  a  Miss  Bate  and  a  Miss  Pen- 
rose  as  companions,  a  manservant,  and  a  hussar 
recommended  by  Lord  Granby  as  an  escort,  and 
an  apothecary  and  a  Jew  musician  to  complete 
her  retinue.  She  was  bound  for  the  Electoral 
Court  at  Dresden,  but  after  travelling  about  half- 
way to  her  destination,  she  received  a  message 
from  the  Electress  to  say  that  she  was  suffering 
from  the  small-pox,  so  Elizabeth  incontinently 
returned  to  her  Duke  after  only  a  few  weeks 

abroad. 

199 


It  was  not  long  before  a  premonitory  stroke  of 
paralysis  beckoned  to  that  nobleman,  and  the 
final  summons  came  in  September  1773,  when 
Evelyn  Pierrepont,  Baron  Kingston,  Marquess  of 
Dorchester  and  Duke  of  Kingston,  the  last  of  a 
line  which  had  been  in  high  place  in  England  for 
seven  hundred  years,  joined  his  fathers  and  left 
his  estate  and  his  wealth  in  the  hands  of  the  adven- 
turess whose  history  we  know.  The  landed  estate 
was  left  to  her  only  as  life  tenant,  but  his  great 
personal  property  was  Elizabeth's  absolutely  so 
long  as  she  remained  a  widow.  The  Duke  men- 
tioned in  his  will  that  he  imposed  that  restriction 
because  he  felt  that  his  wife  was  liable  to  be 
deceived  by  "  any  adventurer  who  flattered  her.'* 
If  we  may  believe  Walpole,  Elizabeth's  show  of 
grief  was  as  extravagant  as  any  of  her  other  many 
eccentricities.  "  She  moved  by  slow  stages  to 
London;  and  made  as  many  halts  as  Queen 
Eleanor's  corpse.  At  one  of  the  inns  where  her 
grief  baited,  she  was  in  too  great  an  agony  to 
descend  to  the  door,  and  was  slung  into  a  bow 
window,  as  Mark  Antony  was  into  Cleopatra's 
monument."  Thus  the  playful  Walpole,  and  it 
is  difficult  to  deny  that  Elizabeth  was  fair  game. 
Mason,  Walpole's  friend,  improved  the  raillery  by 
declaring  that  "  she  ate  black  puddings  and  drank 
black  cherry  brandy  only,  not  being  able  to  eat 
anything  of  a  gayer  colour." 

When  the  first  transports  of  this  grief  were  over, 
Elizabeth  again  determined  to  seek  relief  from 

200 


her  woe  in  foreign  parts,  and  a  few  months  after 
the  Duke's  death,  she  set  out  for  Rome,  where 
at  that  time  reigned  Clement  XIV,  the  "  Protest- 
ant Pope,"  who  was  noted  for  the  marked  atten- 
tion he  paid  to  the  English.  His  holiness  was 
very  ready  to  extend  his  civilities  to  the  great 
lady  who  now  appeared  in  Rome,  accorded  her 
grace  many  privileges,  and  even  lodged  her  in 
the  palace  of  one  of  the  cardinals.  The  Duchess 
was  quite  prepared  to  play  the  grande  dame,  and, 
in  fact,  delighted  the  Romans  in  that  capacity. 
She  was  one  of  the  first  persons  in  England  to 
own  a  private  yacht,  which  she  now  ordered  out 
from  home  to  Civita  Vecchia.  What  better  plan 
of  exhibiting  her  state  to  the  Romans  than  to  get 
it  up  the  Tiber  and  display  it  to  the  admiring 
citizens?  Accordingly,  "at  considerable  trouble 
and  some  expense,"  as  we  read,  the  little  vessel 
was  hauled  up  the  river  and  moored  within  the 
precincts  of  the  Eternal  City,  amid  the  applause 
of  the  crowd.  Elizabeth,  indeed,  seems  to  have 
enjoyed  her  life  at  Rome  hugely,  and  proceeded 
to  make  arrangements  for  a  long  stay.  She  de- 
posited large  sums  of  money  with  her  banker, 
Mr.  Jenkins,  and,  as  Walpole  hints,  was  enabled 
by  the  favour  of  the  Pope  to  make  the  Vatican 
itself  a  depository  for  her  jewels  and  valuables. 
Meanwhile,  however,  she  received  news  from 
England  of  a  most  ominous  menace  to  her  pros- 
perity. With  Elizabeth's  early  history  now  more 
or  less  common  property,  it  was  improbable  that 

201 


IN   THE   DAYS   OF   THE  GEORGES 

the  relations  of  the  Duke  of  Kingston  would 
allow  her  to  remain  in  possession  of  his  large 
fortune  without  some  effort  to  contest  her  title ;  as 
it  proved,  they  were  much  aided  in  their  efforts 
by  the  stupidity  of  her  man  of  business  in  London, 
and  by  Elizabeth's  own  meanness.  The  Duke's 
family  was  now  represented  by  two  nephews, 
Evelyn  and  Charles  Medows,  the  sons  of  his 
sister  Lady  Frances,  who  had  married  a  gentle- 
man of  that  name  of  good  family  but  small  for- 
tune, then  holding  the  office  of  Deputy-Ranger  of 
Richmond  Park.  Lady  Frances  Medows  had  not 
been  on  good  terms  with  the  Duke,  and  her  elder 
son,  Evelyn,  was  also  out  of  favour  with  his  uncle, 
who  had  passed  him  over  in  his  will  and  made  his 
brother  Charles  heir-at-law,  and  his  successor  in 
the  landed  estates  after  Elizabeth's  life  tenancy 
should  have  come  to  an  end.  Mr.  Evelyn  Medows 
was  consequently  very  sore,  and  willing  and 
anxious  to  seize  any  opportunity  of  setting  aside 
his  grace's  will. 

Captain  Hervey  also  had  shown  no  disposition 
to  lie  down  under  the  decree  of  the  Consistory 
Court,  and  had  become  restless;  he  had,  indeed, 
petitioned  the  King  in  Council  for  a  new  trial 
before  the  Duke's  death,  and  the  matter  was  still 
in  suspense.  Elizabeth's  affairs,  in  one  form  or 
another,  were  constantly  before  the  public,  a  state 
of  things  to  which  she  herself  much  contributed 
by  her  eccentricity  and  ostentation,  and  it  was  thus 
inevitable  that  all  who  were  in  any  way  interested 

202 


A  MAID   OF  HONOUR 

in  her  fortunes  should  be  much  on  the  alert. 
Among  these  was  our  old  acquaintance  Ann 
Cradock,  who  had  played  so  useful  a  part  in 
keeping  the  ring,  so  to  speak,  at  that  first  fatal 
encounter  between  Augustus  and  Elizabeth  at 
Lainston.  Poor  Ann  was  getting  on  in  years  and 
had  fallen  upon  indigence,  and  it  now  occurred 
to  her  that  the  knowledge  she  possessed  of  that 
early  folly  might  be  of  value  to  one  side  or  the 
other,  and,  incidentally,  to  herself.  She  presented 
herself  accordingly  to  her  grace's  attorney,  one 
Mr.  Field,  of  Lincoln's  Inn,  informed  him  that 
she  had  a  real  claim  on  the  Duchess's  sympathy, 
urged  her  distress,  and  stated  her  case.  It  is 
uncertain  how  much  Mr.  Field  knew  of  Eliza- 
beth's early  career,  and  consequently  how  far  he 
was  qualified  to  estimate  the  value  of  her  story, 
but  he  was  deaf  to  Ann's  entreaties.  Ann  accord- 
ingly changed  her  demeanour,  brought  the  inter- 
view to  an  end,  and  parted  from  Mr.  Field  with 
the  menace  that  her  information  would  be  "  doubly 
useful  to  the  relatives  of  the  late  Duke."  Upon 
this  Field  seems  to  have  consulted  Elizabeth,  who 
committed  an  amazing  indiscretion.  She  admitted 
Cradock's  claim  by  offering  her  an  annuity,  but 
fixed  the  amount  at  £20  a  year,  and  even  hedged 
that  pitiful  allowance  with  the  condition  that  Ann 
should  be  banished  to  a  village  she  named  in  the 
Peak  district  of  Derbyshire. 

Ann  rejected  the  offer  with  derision,  and  went 
off  forthwith  to  Mr.  Evelyn  Medows,  who  was 

203 


IN  THE   DAYS   OF   THE   GEORGES 

very  glad  to  see  her.  He  would  have  been  satis- 
fied, indeed,  with  less  than  Ann  Cradock  had  to 
tell  him.  He  and  his  legal  advisers  were  put  into 
possession  of  all  the  particulars  of  that  romantic 
evening  at  Lainston,  which  we  have  already  re- 
cited from  her  evidence,  and  with  the  even  more 
interesting  information  regarding  the  manufacture 
of  the  false  register  at  the  Blue  Boar  now  placed 
at  their  disposal  by  Mrs.  Phillips,  they  had  no 
hesitation  in  beginning  proceedings  against  Eliza- 
beth. An  indictment  for  bigamy  was  framed,  and 
in  the  absence  of  the  Duchess  Mr.  Field  was 
served  with  notice,  and  the  matter  in  its  prelimi- 
nary stage  coming  before  the  Grand  Jury  of 
Middlesex,  a  true  bill  was  found  against  her 
grace  for  the  offence.  This  was  the  heavy  news 
that  reached  Elizabeth  in  the  midst  of  her  revelry 
at  Rome,  together  with  the  urgent  advice  that  she 
should  hasten  to  England  at  once  and  appear  to 
the  indictment  in  order  to  avoid  outlawry. 

It  was  upon  that  prospect  of  outlawry,  rendered 
possible  by  Elizabeth's  absence  at  the  other  end 
of  Europe,  that  Mr.  Pierrepont's  chief  hope  was 
fixed;  with  such  a  decree  against  her  Elizabeth's 
property  in  England  would  have  been  at  the 
mercy  of  the  courts,  and  Mr.  Pierrepont  and  his 
brother  would  have  scarcely  failed  to  come  to 
their^own.  It  is  said  that  Pierrepont,  with  this 
object  in  view,  had  already  tampered  with  Eliza- 
beth's banker  in  Rome,  Mr.  Jenkins,  and  that 
gentleman's  unaccommodating  ways  at  this  crisis 

204 


A  MAID   OF   HONOUR 

lend  colour  to  the  charge.  Upon  receipt  of  the 
news  from  London  Elizabeth  at  once  called  on 
Mr.  Jenkins  for  funds  with  which  to  hasten  across 
Europe  in  order  to  appear  to  her  indictment.  She 
was  informed  that  he  was  not  at  home ;  she  called 
again  and  again,  with  the  same  result.  But  both 
Pierrepont  and  Jenkins  were  yet  to  realize  that 
they  were  dealing  with  a  very  masculine  spirit. 
Tired  of  her  constant  disappointment  in  en- 
deavouring to  get  sight  of  Mr.  Jenkins,  Elizabeth 
at  length  put  a  brace  of  pistols  into  her  pocket 
and  sat  down  upon  his  doorstep.  He  must  have 
other  business,  she  declared,  which  would  bring 
him  to  his  shop,  and  she  was  determined  to  be 
there  when  he  arrived,  whether  she  waited  a  month 
or  a  year.  This  hardy  declaration  decided  Mr. 
Jenkins  to  appear  and  give  the  Duchess  an  inter- 
view. She  demanded  money,  he  hesitated  and 
prevaricated,  whereupon  she  drew  her  pistol  and 
held  it  at  his  head  until  he  consented  to  provide 
her  with  the  funds  she  required  for  her  journey. 
She  then  immediately  quitted  Rome  for  England. 
One  is  little  surprised  to  read  that  Elizabeth 
broke  down  on  that  dismal  journey;  she  was  in  a 
fever  which  necessitated  a  halt  before  she  reached 
the  Alps,  and  had  but  a  tardy  convalescence,  de- 
layed by  an  abscess  in  her  side,  which  rendered  a 
post-carriage  impossible,  when  the  indomitable 
woman  pushed  on  in  a  litter.  One  is  almost  forced 
to  admire  the  resolute  spirit  of  this  adventuress,  in 
spite  of  all  her  faults.  She  arrived  at  last  at 

205 


IN    THE  DAYS   OF  THE    GEORGES 

Calais,  torn  with  anxiety,  and  filled  with  a  fear 
that  her  liberty  might  be  endangered  if  she  landed 
in  England.  It  seems  difficult  to  deny  Elizabeth 
the  possession  of  some  undefined  quality  which 
gained  her  many  friends.  She  had  never  lacked 
the  countenance  and  support  of  persons  of  high 
station  since  Pulteney  discovered  her  in  Devon- 
shire, and  at  the  present  crisis  in  her  affairs  there 
were  numerous  men  of  position  in  England  will- 
ing to  help  and  advise  her  in  her  extremity.  She 
had  been  in  Calais  but  a  few  days  when  the  great 
Murray,  Lord  Mansfield,  who  had  been  Lord 
Chief  Justice,  found  time  to  run  over  and  see  her, 
and  was  able  to  calm  her  fears  as  to  the  danger  of 
imprisonment  without  bail,  and  assure  her  that  she 
might  continue  her  journey  without  danger.  She 
crossed  to  Dover  accordingly,  hurried  to  London, 
where  she  went  to  Kingston  House,  and  was  able 
to  consult  with  other  influential  friends  who  were 
waiting  to  give  her  all  assistance.  Her  council 
apparently  included  the  Dukes  of  Newcastle, 
Ancaster  and  Portland,  Lord  Mountstuart,  Lord 
Barrington,  as  well  as  a  Lincolnshire  squire,  Mr. 
Glover,  a  gentleman  of  very  independent,  not  to 
say  arbitrary,  character.  The  Duke  of  Newcastle, 
Lord  Mountstuart  and  Mr.  Glover,  indeed,  were 
good  enough  to  go  bail  for  her,  and  Elizabeth  had 
thus  ample  breathing  space  in  which  to  prepare 
her  defence  for  the  trial,  which,  as  it  proved,  did 
not  take  place  until  April  of  the  following  year, 
1776.  In  the  meantime  Captain  Hervey  had 

206 


Capt.  Augustus    John    Hervey 

3rd   Earl  of   Bristol 


A  MAID   OF   HONOUR 

succeeded  to  the  earldom  of  Bristol  by  the  death 
of  his  brother  on  the  24th  of  May  preceding,  an 
event  for  which  Elizabeth  in  due  time  had  great 
cause  to  be  thankful. 

It  was  at  this  juncture  that  Samuel  Foote,  the 
ill-conditioned     patentee     of     the     Haymarket 
Theatre,   made    a    disgraceful    attempt   to    levy 
blackmail  upon  Elizabeth.    He  chose  this  moment 
of  her  trouble  to  write  a  piece  with  the  title  of  a 
Trip  to  Calais,  one  of  the  characters  of  which, 
Lady  Kitty  Crocodile,  presented  many 'of  Eliza- 
beth's peculiarities  in  very  unflattering  terms.    He 
caused  it  to  be  known  about  town  that  he  was 
shortly  to  produce  this  piece  at  his  theatre,  and 
found  means  of  conveying  the  same  information 
to  the   Duchess.     Elizabeth  took  alarm,   as  he 
intended  she  should,  and  sent  for  him,  as  he  also 
intended.    Foote  read  the  piece  to  her,  and  though 
protesting  that  the  character  of  Lady  Kitty  was 
not  meant  for  her,  yet  expressed  his  willingness 
to  suppress  the  piece  upon  the  receipt  of  £2000, 
with  a  further  sum  for  his  pains  in  converting  it 
into  another  play.     Elizabeth,  though  furious  at 
the  attempted  extortion,  offered  first  ,£1400,  then 
£1600,  and  was  actually  writing  a  draft  on  Drum- 
monds  for  the  latter  sum  when  Foote  refused  it, 
thinking  she  would  come  to  his  terms.     But  he 
was  mistaken  in  his  adversary,  as  he  once  was 
in  a  famous  difference  with  Samuel  Johnson,  who 
threatened  the  rascal  with  a  big  stick  in  similar 
circumstances.     Elizabeth's  friends  advised  her 

207 


IN   THE   DAYS   OF   THE   GEORGES 

to  begin  a  suit  of  criminal  libel  against  Foote 
should  he  dare  to  perform  the  piece,  and  a  box 
was  taken  at  the  theatre  during  the  season  for  her 
shorthand  writer,  Mr.  Blanchard,  to  obtain  the 
necessary  evidence.  But  her  friends  again  came 
to  her  assistance,  and  the  Duke  of  Newcastle 
exerted  his  interest  with  Lord  Hertford,  the  Lord 
Chamberlain,  to  forbid  the  acting  of  the  piece. 
Foote  was  thus  beaten,  and  the  honours  would 
have  rested  with  Elizabeth  had  she  not,  in  an 
unlucky  moment,  written  to  the  actor  a  very 
abusive  letter.  This  gave  the  able  scoundrel  his 
opportunity,  and  he  published  a  reply  in  which 
she  was  held  up  to  the  derision  of  the  town.  But 
Foote  lost  whatever  credit  he  possessed  by  this 
attempt  to  extort  money  from  a  woman  in  diffi- 
culty, and  one  of  his  best  friends  declared  that  he 
deserved  to  be  run  through  the  body. 

With  this  distraction  removed,  Elizabeth  was 
now  able  to  give  her  full  attention  to  the  prepara- 
tion of  her  defence.  Upon  the  declaration  of  a 
true  bill  by  the  Grand  Jury  of  Middlesex  she  at 
once  claimed  to  be  tried  by  her  peers  in  the  House 
of  Lords,  a  claim  which  was  irresistible  in  view 
of  the  fact  that  she  had  recently  become  a  countess 
at  the  least,  by  virtue  of  her  captain's  succession 
to  the  earldom  of  Bristol.  The  certainty,  thus 
established,  that  Elizabeth  would  be  tried  by  a 
body  of  several  hundred  amateur  judges  like  the 
peers  provided  an  excellent  opportunity  for  her 
well-wishers  among  their  lordships.  There  was  a 

208 


A  MAID   OF   HONOUR 

long  preliminary  discussion  in  the  House  as  to 
the  advisability  of  holding  a  trial  at  all.  Many 
of  their  lordships  declared  themselves  opposed 
to  it  upon  the  score  of  expense;  Lord  Mansfield 
seized  these  doubts  as  an  opportunity  for  urging 
the  abandonment  of  the  proceedings  altogether. 
"  Cui  bono"  said  his  lordship,  "what  utility  is  to 
be  obtained  even  supposing  a  conviction  to  be 
the  result?  The  lady  makes  your  lordships  a 
curtsey,  and  you  return  the  lady  a  bow."  Chan- 
cellor Bathurst,  however,  was  vehement  for  a  trial, 
and  the  solemn  proceedings  accordingly  went  for- 
ward. But  Mansfield's  evident  advocacy  of 
Elizabeth  and  her  cause  damped  the  spirits  of 
the  prosecution  very  considerably.  Lord  Mans- 
field possessed  great  influence,  and  Medows  and 
his  advisers  were  fearful  that  it  might  be  sufficient 
to  secure  an  acquittal.  They  therefore  caused 
a  hint  to  be  conveyed  privately  to  Elizabeth  that 
the  payment  of  the  sum  of  £10,000  would  ensure 
an  abandonment  of  the  prosecution,  and  the  hint 
was  at  length  developed  into  a  positive  offer. 
Some  of  Elizabeth's  friends  implored  her  to 
accept  it,  but  in  vain.  Her  lawyers  assured  her 
she  had  nothing  to  fear,  and  she  professed  to 
reject  the  overture  as  an  insult.  She  expressed 
the  greatest  anxiety  that  the  trial  should  take  place 
at  the  earliest  possible  moment,  talked  of  urgent 
business  which  awaited  her  with  the  Pope,  and 
wished  the  tiresome  business  settled  chiefly  that 
she  might  be  free  to  rush  back  to  his  holiness. 
0  209 


IN   THE   DAYS   OF   THE   GEORGES 

But  she  was  secretly  taking  all  precautions  to 
ensure  her  acquittal  if  that  were  possible;  she 
approached  the  inconvenient  Cradock  with  a  view 
to  getting  her  out  of  the  way,  but  that  faithless 
creature  not  only  refused  the  overtures  with  scorn, 
but  carried  news  of  them  to  the  enemy. 

The  great  day  of  the  opening  of  the  trial,  the 
i  $th  of  April  1776,  at  length  arrived,  and  with  it 
the  function  for  which  Europe  had  been  waiting 
impatiently  for  months.  There  has  seldom  been 
an  event  which  so  stimulated  the  curiosity  of  the 
town  as  Elizabeth's  trial  for  bigamy  in  West- 
minster Hall  by  her  peers.  The  privilege  of 
entrance  to  the  proceedings  had  been  sought  with 
greater  fervour  than  that  of  witnessing  a  corona- 
tion, the  foreign  ministers  in  London  had  been 
besieged  by  the  nobility  of  their  respective 
countries  for  tickets  of  admission,  and  as  the  day 
drew  near  the  highroads  of  the  continent  had 
been  enlivened  by  a  procession  of  post-chaises 
hurrying  the  successful  ones  over  for  the  cere- 
mony. As  for  the  native  gentry,  it  was  probably 
never  so  well  represented.  Queen  Charlotte  her- 
self, with  the  princes  of  the  blood,  ladies  eminent 
in  rank  and  in  beauty,  men  renowned  in  arms  and 
art  and  letters,  all  flocked  to  the  great  Hall  to 
watch  the  fortunes  of  the  daughter  of  the  Deputy- 
Governor  of  Chelsea  Hospital  in  the  hour  of  her 
tribulation.  Hannah  More  wrote  a  capital  letter 
describing  the  scene ;  shows  us  the  air  of  expecta- 
tion which  pervaded  the  great  assembly,  the 

210 


A   MAID   OF   HONOUR 

ladies  chattering  behind  their  fans,  the  Duchess 
of  Devonshire,  in  the  very  height  of  her  beauty, 
regaling  herself  with  luncheon  from  her  work- 
bag;  all  the  pomp  and  ceremony  invoked  by  the 
greatest  tribunal  in  the  kingdom  in  order  to 
adjudicate  upon  the  guilt  or  innocence  of  an 
adventuress  whose  moral  betters  were  often  dis- 
posed of  without  record  at  the  Old  Bailey. 

Elizabeth  made  a  better  appearance  than  had 
been  expected.  Her  charms  were  long  gone,  of 
course,  and  Hannah  rather  unfeelingly  describes 
the  full-blown  widow  as  "  a  bale  of  bombazine 
with  nothing  white  about  her  but  her  face,  a  black 
hood  over  her  powdered  hair,  deep  black  gauze 
ruffles  and  black  gloves,  followed  by  four  attend- 
ants in  virgin  white,  to  heighten  the  effect  of  her 
sables."  But  she  surprised  her  friends  and  dis- 
appointed her  enemies  by  the  dignity  of  her 
demeanour.  Walpole,  who  professed  to  expect 
a  display  of  ostentatious  folly,  was  driven  from 
his  sneering  by  the  propriety  of  her  behaviour; 
"  she  went  through  her  part  with  universal  admira- 
tion," he  admitted ;  "  all  her  conduct  was  decent, 
and  even  seemed  natural." 

There  is  no  need  here  to  follow  the  details  of 
those  musty  proceedings,  imposing  as  they  were 
to  the  actual  spectators,  with  the  array  of  Lord 
High  Stewards,  judges  and  heralds  to  attend  the 
solemn  procession  of  peers  spiritual  and  tem- 
poral, who  marched  in  pairs  according  to  their 
rank,  beginning  with  the  youngest  barons.  The 

02  211 


IN   THE   DAYS   OF   THE   GEORGES 

court  having  been  thus  constituted,  Elizabeth  was 
brought  to  the  bar  by  Black  Rod,  where  she  made 
three  reverences  and  fell  upon  her  knees.  The 
indictment  having  been  read,  she  was  asked  by 
the  Clerk  to  the  Crown,  "  How  say  you,  are  you 
guilty  of  the  felony  ? "  "I  am  not  guilty,"  she 
replied.  "How  will  you  be  tried?"  "By  God 
and  my  peers."  "  God  send  you  a  good  deliver- 
ance." 

The  issue  was  soon  narrowed  down  to  a  single 
point :  whether  the  decree  of  the  ecclesiastical 
court  which  had  declared  her  to  be  a  spinster 
before  her  marriage  with  the  Duke  was  to  be 
held  as  absolute,  or  whether  the  means  by  which 
it  had  been  obtained  could  be  re-examined,  and 
the  whole  question  of  the  Lainston  marriage  re- 
opened. Upon  that  point  a  whole  array  of  big- 
wigs argued  on  opposite  sides  through  three 
weary  days.  The  argument  went  wholly  against 
Elizabeth,  and  from  the  moment  that  became  clear 
her  cause  was  lost.  Tiger  Thurlow,  who  was  in 
charge  of  the  prosecution,  had  no  sort  of  difficulty 
in  proving  his  case.  Lord  Bristol  was  not  called, 
but  Thurlow  triumphantly  produced  Ann  Cra- 
dock  and  Mrs.  Phillips,  the  remarried  widow  of 
Parson  Amis,  who  both  proved  the  marriage  and 
the  subsequent  manipulation  of  the  register,  and 
Mr.  Caesar  Hawkins,  who  swore  to  the  birth  of 
the  child  and  to  the  later  negotiations  between 
Hervey  and  his  wife.  With  this  evidence  before 
them,  the  peers,  whatever  their  previous  opinions 

212 


A  MAID   OF   HONOUR 

might  have  been,  had  no  option  but  to  return  the 
inevitable  verdict  of  guilty.  Their  lordships  all 
solemnly  laid  their  hands  on  their  hearts  with  the 
words,  "  Guilty,  upon  my  honour,"  the  Duke  of 
Newcastle  adding,  "erroneously  but  not  inten- 
tionally," and  Elizabeth  was  called  to  the  bar. 
She  came  well  prepared.  Upon  the  verdict  being 
read  over  to  her  she  handed  a  paper  to  the  court, 
in  which  she  prayed  for  the  benefit  of  clergy  as 
Countess  of  Bristol. 

Their  lordships  were  again  unable  to  resist  her 
plea,  and  Elizabeth  was  granted  immunity  from 
the  consequences  of  her  crime  as  the  wife  of  a 
man  whose  claim  as  husband  she  had  repudiated 
for  over  thirty  years.  The  Lord  High  Steward, 
in  bringing  the  proceedings  to  a  close,  informed 
her  of  their  lordship's  decision  in  as  impressive 
language  as  he  could  muster  in  all  the  circum- 
stances. "  Madam,"  said  he,  "  the  lords  have  con- 
sidered of  the  prayer  you  have  made  to  have  the 
benefits  of  the  statutes,  and  the  lords  allow  it  you. 
But,  madam,  let  me  add  that  though  very  little 
punishment,  or  none,  can  be  inflicted,  the  feelings 
of  your  own  conscience  will  supply  the  defect. 
And  let  me  give  you  this  information  likewise, 
that  you  can  never  have  the  like  benefit  a  second 
time,  but  another  offence  of  the  same  kind  will 
be  capital.  You  are  discharged  upon  paying  your 
fees."  Elizabeth  at  fifty-seven  was  moderately 
safe  from  the  temptation  of  a  second  bigamous 
marriage,  one  imagines,  so  the  proceedings  came 

213 


IN  THE  DAYS   OF   THE   GEORGES 

to  an  end  little  to  her  prejudice.  They  closed, 
indeed,  with  the  exact  result  which  Lord  Mans- 
field had  predicted  when  "she  made  their  lord- 
ships a  curtsey  and  they  returned  her  a  bow." 
The  Lord  High  Steward  broke  his  white  wand, 
there  was  the  usual  scramble  for  the  fragments, 
and  Elizabeth  left  Westminster  Hall  a  free 
woman. 

During  the  later  stages  of  the  trial,  when  a 
verdict  against  her  became  a  certainty,  Elizabeth 
in  private  had  exhibited  much  of  her  native  trucu- 
lence ;  she  had  talked  bravely  of  barred  doors  and 
blunderbusses,  and  hinted  her  intention  of  stand- 
ing a  siege  at  Kingston  House  before  submitting 
to  the  indignity  of  an  arrest.  But  though  the 
danger  to  her  person  was  now  removed  by  the 
gentle  treatment  of  the  peers,  she  was  under  no 
delusions  as  to  her  position  with  respect  to  Mr. 
Evelyn  Medows,  whose  prosecution  for  bigamy 
had  been  only  a  means  to  an  end,  that  of  shaking 
the  Duke  of  Kingston's  wealth  from  her  grasp, 
and,  with  her  usual  foresight,  she  was  now  pre- 
pared to  escape  his  hungry  clutches.  Immediately 
after  the  trial  Medows  moved  for  a  writ  of  ne 
exeat  regno,  which,  if  successful,  would  have  kept 
the  elusive  lady  in  the  kingdom,  and  allowed  him 
to  deal  with  her  at  his  leisure.  But,  resourceful 
as  ever,  Elizabeth  was  alert  to  meet  the  new 
danger.  In  order  to  allay  any  suspicion,  she 
ostentatiously  sent  her  chariot  about  the  town,  and 
issued  invitations  for  a  grand  banquet  at  Kingston 

214 


House,  and  the  same  evening  slipped  quietly  out 
of  London,  and  drove  post-haste  to  Dover.  The 
faithful  Captain  Harding,  who  had  taken  her 
yacht  over  to  Rome  the  year  before,  was  awaiting 
her  at  the  southern  port,  and  hiring  the  first 
open  boat  she  could  find,  Elizabeth  was  wafted 
across  the  Straits  to  Calais  and  safety. 

We  have  been  chiefly  interested  in  the  career  of 
this  audacious  woman  in  England,  where  great 
social  success  and  prodigious  material  prosperity 
as  the  rewards  of  continuous  ill-doing  seem  to 
throw  a  somewhat  sinister  light  upon  the  morality 
and  the  justice  of  the  times.  Her  subsequent 
career,  therefore,  merits  a  less  prominent  place  in 
the  scheme  of  our  undertaking.  Not  that  it  lacked 
interest  or  adventure.  Elizabeth  halted  in  Calais 
in  order  the  better  to  watch  the  proceedings  of  her 
persecutor,  Mr.  Medows,  about  whose  proceed- 
ings and  their  issue  she  still  felt  some  uneasiness. 
She  found  a  resting-place  in  an  old  house  which 
she  bought  of  a  M.  Cocove,  a  friend  of  Lord 
Granby,  and  a  well-known  Anglophil  of  those 
days.  She  graciously  allowed  Mis  wife  and  children 
to  occupy  a  wing  of  this  house,  and  seems  to  have 
been  very  kind  to  them  in  promises,  if  not  in  actual 
deeds.  She  would  show  her  dresses  and  jewels 
to  the  demoiselles,  and  hint  at  commissions  for  the 
sons  in  the  French  army.  Was  not  his  Majesty 
King  Louis  a  friend  of  hers,  and  ready  at  all  times 
to  do  her  a  civility;  did  not  she  herself  come  of  a 
race  of  soldiers;  when  had  the  valour  of  the 

215 


IN  THE   DAYS   OF   THE   GEORGES 

ancient  Chudleighs  been  surpassed?  So  Eliza- 
beth bragged  and  played  the  grande  dame,  pulled 
the  old  house  about,  made  new  entrances  and 
threw  out  bow  windows,  but  does  not  seem  to  have 
brought  any  particular  prosperity  to  the  poor 
Cocoves. 

We  next  hear  of  her  in  Rome,  where  a  friar  and 
a  cardinal  had  raided  the  palace  she  had  left  in 
such  a  hurry  a  year  before,  taking  away  everything 
portable  except  a  little  Italian  maid,  whom  one,  or 
both,  of  the  holy  men  had  most  shamefully  ill- 
treated,  or  so  the  maid  said.  His  Holiness  the 
Pope,  to  whom  she  appealed,  does  not  seem  to 
have  helped  her  much  except  with  sympathy,  and 
she  closed  her  affairs  in  that  city  in  some  dudgeon 
and  returned  to  Calais.  Here,  to  her  great  relief, 
she  heard  from  her  friend  Schomberg  that  the 
Dean  of  Arches  and  other  legal  luminaries  he  had 
consulted  had  declared  the  Duke's  will  to  be  as 
safe  as  the  Rock  of  Gibraltar.  She  was  so  grate- 
ful to  Schomberg  that  she  sent  him  a  ring,  which, 
wanting  some  little  repair,  was  taken  to  a  jeweller, 
who  pronounced  it  a  sham,  which  had  possibly 
cost  thirty  francs  at  the  Palais  Royal.  Its  value, 
however,  was  no  measure  of  her  own  satisfaction 
at  the  favourable  turn  in  her  affairs,  and  she  now 
prepared  to  carry  out  a  scheme  she  had  long 
cherished,  that  of  visiting  St.  Petersburg,  and 
gaining  the  recognition  of  the  Czarina. 

There  were  certain  difficulties  in  carrying  out 
this  design,  which,  however,  Elizabeth  encoun- 

216 


A   MAID   OF   HONOUR 

tered  with  her  usual  resolution.  In  order  to  ensure 
a  favourable  reception  at  St.  Petersburg,  she  first 
sent  a  propitiatory  offering  of  two  pictures  to  Cher- 
nicheff,  the  Russian  Minister  in  Paris,  with  a  desire 
to  be  assured  that  she  would  be  welcome  at  the 
Czarina's  court.  She  discovered  later  that  the 
pictures  were  by  Raphael  and  Claude  respectively, 
and  made  a  desperate  attempt  to  get  them  back 
from  that  gentleman,  who,  however,  refused  to 
accommodate  her,  and  she  left  a  clause  in  her 
will  calling  Heaven  to  witness  that  she  had  only 
deposited  them  with  him  for  safety.  It  is  said, 
also,  that  she  sent  a  large  number  of  works  of  art 
to  the  Czarina,  who  sorted  out  those  of  value  to 
place  in  her  collection,  and  very  thriftily  sold  the 
rest  for  what  they  would  fetch.  She  seems,  how- 
ever, to  have  become  assured  as  to  her  reception 
with  that  potentate,  and  made  preparations  for  her 
journey.  There  was  another  difficulty  in  the  state 
of  the  high  seas.  The  American  War  of  Inde- 
pendence was  in  full  blast,  and  Benjamin  Frank- 
lin, the  representative  of  the  insurgent  colonists  at 
Paris,  was  besieged  by  adventurers  praying  for 
the  grant  of  letters  of  marque,  which  should  enable 
them  to  plunder  all  British  property  in  the  narrow 
waters  of  the  Channel.  Elizabeth  and  her  for- 
tunes were  now  so  well  known  that  her  person  was 
held  to  be  worth  a  queen's  ransom  by  these  enter- 
prising gentry,  and  there  was  hardly  a  tarry-breeks 
able  to  fit  out  the  meanest  lugger  who  was  not 
itching  to  set  sail  as  a  privateer  in  quest  of  her  so 

217 


IN  THE   DAYS   OF  THE    GEORGES 

soon  as  her  yacht  should  have  cleared  out  of 
Calais  harbour.  But  Elizabeth  was  not  the  woman 
to  fall  into  such  a  trap;  she  outwitted  the  whole 
gang  by  sailing  under  the  French  flag  by  permis- 
sion of  the  King. 

The  Czarina,  who,  like  Frederic  of  Prussia, 
delighted  in  curiosities,  seems  to  have  been  quite 
kind  to  Elizabeth;  her  chief  grievance  was  against 
Sir  James  Harris,  the  British  ambassador,  who 
could  only  be  civil  to  her  in  private,  an  official 
slight  which  Elizabeth  is  said  to  have  received  with 
some  chagrin.  Her  ambition  was  to  receive  some 
order  and  decoration  from  the  Empress,  and,  with 
this  in  view,  acting  upon  the  advice  of  some  of  the 
Russian  nobility,  she  bought  a  landed  estate  near 
the  capital  for  £12,000,  which  consisted  chiefly, 
from  all  accounts,  of  forest  and  water.  The  estate 
was  not  profitable,  even  after  she  had  established 
a  manufactory  of  vodka  upon  it,  and  she  left  it  in 
charge  of  an  English  carpenter,  whom  she  picked 
up  in  St.  Petersburg,  when  later  she  quitted  the 
city.  Neither  did  its  possession  produce  the 
wished-for  distinction  from  the  Empress,  who  was 
none  the  less  quite  kind — presented  her,  indeed, 
with  another  estate  on  the  Neva  of  considerable 
value;  of  a  double  value  to  Elizabeth,  perhaps, 
from  the  rights  of  seignory  it  conferred  upon  her ; 
her  tenants  were  obliged  to  kneel  and  kiss  the  hem 
of  her  garment,  to  her  huge  delight.  In  return 
for  this  munificence  she  gave  a  banquet  of  sur- 

218 


A  MAID   OF   HONOUR 

passing  magnificence,  which  the  Czarina  was  good 
enough  to  honour  by  her  presence,  a  banquet 
which  required  the  services  of  140  servants,  and 
the  service  of  which  was  on  real  plate.  In  other 
respects  Elizabeth  was  more  careful,  for  we  read 
of  a  mutiny  among  her  servants,  occasioned,  in 
part,  at  least,  by  her  unpunctuality  in  paying 
wages.  She  seems  to  have  exhausted  the  plea- 
sures of  the  northern  capital,  and,  finding  that  the 
distinction  she  hoped  for  was  unlikely  to  be  forth- 
coming, at  length  turned  incontinently  to  Calais. 

With  her  fears  at  last  set  at  rest  by  the  proved 
stability  of  the  Duke's  will,  a  provincial  residence 
in  France  writhin  sight  of  her  native  shores  was 
no  longer  to  her  taste,  and  she  now  looked  for  a 
house  in  Paris.  She  pitched  first  upon  a  mansion 
at  Montmartre,  then  a  sequestered  suburb  of  the 
city,  and  its  purchase  led  to  litigation  which  lasted 
with  her  life.  Later  she  was  in  negotiation  for  a 
much  greater  place,  that  of  St.  Assise,  a  domain 
belonging  to  Monsieur  the  King's  brother,  a  great 
estate,  populous  with  game,  and  with  a  mansion 
containing  300  bedrooms.  For  this  she  engaged 
to  pay  £53,000  in  instalments,  of  which,  it  is  said, 
only  the  first  was  paid  at  her  death.  It  is  related 
that  during  the  first  week  of  her  possession  500 
guineas  worth  of  rabbits  were  killed  on  this 
estate. 

Elizabeth's  prevailing  weakness  was  obviously 
a  feverish  restlessness.  "  I  should  despise  my- 

219 


IN   THE   DAYS   OF   THE   GEORGES 

self,"  she  once  said,  "were  I  two  hours  in  the 
same  temper."  That,  doubtless,  supplies  a  reason 
for  her  peregrinations  about  the  continent,  and, 
incidentally,  for  her  victimization  by  half  the 
adventurers  of  Europe.  Among  these  was  the 
ingenious  and  interesting  rascal  who  assumed  the 
style  and  title  of  Stephan  Annibale,  Prince  d'Al- 
banie,  but  who  was  the  son  of  an  honest  dealer  in 
mules  and  bagigi,  or  children's  sweetmeats,  of  the 
name  of  Zannowitch,  hailing  from  some  obscure 
corner  of  the  Balkans.  Elizabeth  met  this  rogue 
in  the  guise  of  a  pilgrim  on  one  of  her  expeditions, 
and  his  manners  and  air  of  mystery  attracting  her, 
the  pair  became  fast  friends,  so  much  so  that  the 
pilgrim  declared  his  royal  lineage,  his  friendship 
with  the  most  exalted  personages  of  his  own  rank, 
and  the  reasons  for  his  travelling  incognito  as  poor 
Worta  the  pilgrim.  His  history,  in  fact,  was  so 
full  of  romance,  and  so  like  her  own,  that  an 
affinity  declared  itself,  and  there  seems  little  doubt 
that  a  marriage  between  the  pair  would  have  re- 
sulted, but  for  that  unaccommodating  clause  in 
the  Duke's  will.  It  was  only  Elizabeth's  good 
fortune  which  saved  her  from  the  enterprising 
Worta ;  as  it  was,  there  was  a  long  and  affectionate 
correspondence,  and  the  disguised  prince  did  not 
fail  to  draw  upon  his  inamorata  in  the  most  trust- 
ful manner  for  very  comfortable  sums,  his  drafts 
being  always  honoured.  There  was  a  projected 
journey  of  the  couple  together  through  Germany, 

220 


A  MAID   OF  HONOUR 

during  which  Elizabeth  was  to  be  robbed  of  her 
jewels  and  money,  a  plot  which  the  prince  had 
arranged  with  a  maid  whom  he  had  recommended 
to  Elizabeth,  when,  by  a  crowning  mercy,  his 
highness,  having  been  chased  by  the  police  from 
one  country  to  another,  was  finally  laid  by  the 
heels  in  Holland  on  a  charge  of  forgery,  where 
he  obligingly  took  a  dose  of  poison.  Elizabeth's 
letters  to  this  rascal  have  lately  been  unearthed 
from  the  Dutch  criminal  archives  by  an  erudite 
French  historian,  and  may  be  read  in  a  very  inter- 
esting study  of  "  Prince  Stephan"  in  La  Nouvelle 
Revue  for  October  1898. 

It  is  noteworthy  that  Elizabeth  seems  to  have 
made  no  attempt  to  renew  her  relations  with  her 
great  friends  at  the  Prussian  and  Saxon  courts. 
It  is  true  that  she  wrote  to  King  Frederic  in  great 
affliction  at  the  time  of  the  trial;  she  was  "over- 
whelmed," she  said,  "by  trouble  like  David  of 
old,  but  there  were  princes  graciously  inclined, 
like  David,  to  succour  the  oppressed."  The 
Electress  of  Saxony  was  disposed  to  find  all  sorts 
of  excuses  for  her  friend.  "  Poor  thing,"  she  said, 
"  she  was  so  young  when  she  made  that  first  mar- 
riage." Frederic  was  quite  affable,  and  offered 
Berlin  as  an  asylum,  where,  as  he  assured  her 
through  the  Prussian  minister  in  London,  her  pro- 
perty, if  transmitted  to  his  capital,  would  be 
perfectly  safe.  Elizabeth,  however,  was  quite 
ungrateful  for  this  kindness.  "The  King  of 

221 


IN  THE   DAYS   OF   THE   GEORGES 

Prussia  is  devilishly  clever,"  she  remarked  to  a 
friend,  "but  I  shall  not  trust  him."  These  un- 
worthy suspicions  were,  perhaps,  a  reason  for  her 
avoiding  Berlin  and  Dresden,  but  upon  one  of  her 
visits  to  St.  Petersburg  she  took  occasion  to  renew 
her  acquaintance  with  a  friend  whom  she  had  once 
met  at  the  Saxon  court. 

This  was  Prince  Radzivil,  who  had  some  pre- 
tensions to  the  crown  of  Poland,  and  seems  to 
have  been  much  interested  in  the  lady,  and  to  have 
corresponded  with  her  for  years.  She  now  an- 
nounced her  intention  of  taking  his  Highness's 
dominions  on  her  way  back  from  the  Russian 
capital,  and  it  is  said  that  the  Prince,  whose  affec- 
tion was  undiminished  by  time,  looked  upon  the 
visit  as  likely  to  realize  his  fondest  hopes.  He 
certainly  prepared  for  her  on  a  scale  which  has 
scarcely  been  exceeded  since  Solomon  met  the 
Queen  of  Sheba.  Berge,  a  village  in  one  of  the 
Prince's  duchies,  about  forty  miles  from  Riga,  was 
the  place  of  this  happy  meeting.  The  Prince, 
though  begging  Elizabeth  to  let  him  wait  upon 
her  without  ceremony,  appeared  with  a  retinue 
which  filled  forty  carriages  of  six  horses  each,  and 
provided  riders  for  six  hundred  horses,  besides  a 
guard  of  hussars.  The  entire  nobility  of  his  prin- 
cipality waited  on  this  plain  Devonshire  woman 
of  sixty;  she  slept  in  a  new  palace  every  night 
during  her  visit  of  a  fortnight ;  he  built  a  complete 
village  of  wooden  houses  in  which  to  entertain  her 

222 


A   MAID   OF   HONOUR 

at  a  banquet  and  rural  fair;  she  was  escorted  by 
guards  of  honour  bearing  torches  to  her  place  of 
rest  each  night;  there  were  midnight  boar-hunts, 
in  which  the  quarry  was  driven  into  a  circle  of 
lighted  torches  to  be  dispatched  before  her  eyes; 
the  whole  country  blazed  nightly  with  bonfires  and 
fireworks;  never  was  known  such  feasting,  such 
dancing,  such  joyous  salvoes  of  artillery.  "He 
may  fire  as  much  as  he  pleases,"  said  Elizabeth 
to  one  of  her  suite,  after  one  of  these  compli- 
mentary detonations,  "but  he  shall  not  hit  my 
mark."  And  so  she  left  the  confiding  gentleman 
much  the  poorer  by  the  expenses  of  this  royal 
entertainment  and  by  a  profusion  of  costly 
presents  which  he  heaped  upon  her. 

It  is  difficult  even  to  suggest  a  reason  for  Eliza- 
beth's success  with  this  sort  of  company;  all  the 
particulars  of  her  manners  and  personality  that 
have  survived  in  numerous  contemporary  memoirs 
are  of  a  vulgar  character,  even  coarse  and  disgust- 
ing. Yet  she  moved  about  from  the  establishment 
of  one  great  personage  to  another,  and  was  treated 
by  all  like  a  queen.  A  Polish  bishop  of  Wilna 
is  said  to  have  been  among  her  ardent  admirers,  a 
band  which  also  included  the  Patriarch  of  Jeru- 
salem, whom  she  met  at  Rome,  and  who  shared 
the  enthusiasm  of  Pope  Clement  for  her  person 
and  conversation.  After  her  royal  entertainment 
by  Prince  Radzivil,  she  dropped  in,  so  to  speak, 
upon  Count  Oginski,  the  "Ornament  of  Human 

223 


IN  THE   DAYS   OF   THE   GEORGES 

Nature,"  as  Frederic  of  Prussia  called  him  in  his 
enthusiastic  way,  the  friend  of  the  French  king, 
the  enlightened  patron  of  the  arts,  the  accom- 
plished artist  and  musician,  the  Crichton  of  his 
times,  in  fact.  If  we  are  to  believe  her  biographer, 
there  was  the  greatest  emulation  for  her  hand  be- 
tween the  accomplished  Count  and  Radzivil,  who 
accompanied  her.  However  this  may  have  been, 
it  is  certain  that  she  was  again  royally  entertained. 
But  Elizabeth  had  either  seen  too  much  of  matri- 
mony, or  preferred  her  independence  and  her  dear 
Duke's  estate  to  the  glory  of  either  of  these 
alliances,  for  she  remained  fancy  free  to  the  end 
of  the  chapter. 

This  came  rather  suddenly  in  1778.  The  widow 
was  at  dinner  at  St.  Assise  when  a  servant  entered 
with  the  news  that  some  litigation  in  which  she  had 
been  long  engaged  had  gone  against  her.  This 
threw  her  into  a  violent  passion,  which  broke  an 
internal  blood-vessel.  She  refused  to  lie  by,  dis- 
regarded the  doctor's  orders  to  abstain  from  wine, 
drank  two  glasses  of  Madeira,  lay  on  a  sofa  and 
expired  during  her  sleep  without  a  struggle,  so 
gently,  indeed,  that  her  maid  who  held  her  hand 
knew  only  of  her  passing  by  its  coldness.  Some 
little  reparation  to  the  Duke's  family  she  had 
made  by  receiving  her  old  antagonist,  Evelyn 
Pierrepont,  into  favour,  paying  his  debts,  giving 
him  £500  a  year,  and  making  him  the  legatee  of 
her  personal  property,  which  was  considerable  in 

224 


A  MAID   OF   HONOUR 

spite  of  her  dissipation.  The  landed  estate  went, 
by  the  Duke's  will,  to  the  younger  brother,  Charles 
Medows.  This  gentleman  assumed  the  name  of 
Pierrepont,  was  ennobled,  and  the  family  name  of 
the  Dukes  of  Kingston  survives  to-day  in  the 
patronymic  of  the  Earls  of  Manvers. 


225 


?  2  227 


V 
THE   COMPLETE   GAMESTER 

THERE  are  few  great  figures  of  English  history 
whose  characters  display  richer  contrasts  than  that 
of  Charles  Fox.  "  Fox  had  three  passions,"  said 
one  of  his  friends,  "women,  play,  and  politics, 
yet  he  never  formed  a  creditable  connection  with 
a  woman,  he  squandered  all  his  means  at  the 
gaming-table,  and  except  for  eleven  months,  he 
was  constantly  in  Opposition."  That  estimate  of 
Fox's  career  came  to  be  modified  before  he  died, 
but  it  was  fairly  accurate  at  the  time  it  was  uttered. 
His  contemporaries  during  his  early  manhood 
could  not  fail  to  be  struck  with  some  of  the  con- 
tradictions of  his  character.  On  the  one  hand  was 
the  inspired  orator  of  the  House  of  Commons, 
the  prophet  of  a  great  political  party,  the  personal 
opponent  during  twenty  years  of  the  court  and 
King  George.  On  the  other  was  a  ruined  spend- 
thrift sunk  under  a  load  of  debt  almost  before  he 
was  out  of  his  'teens,  whose  furniture  went  down 
St.  James's  Street  in  the  bailiffs'  carts  at  regular 
intervals,  who  had  lost  fortune  after  fortune  of  his 
own  and  had  compromised  the  estates  of  half  his 

229 


IN  THE   DAYS   OF  THE   GEORGES 

acquaintance  by  his  reckless  folly,  and  yet  was 
regarded  as  the  best  of  good  fellows  by  his 
victims,  and  was  almost  adored  by  everybody 
who  came  in  contact  with  him. 

Most  of  the  qualities  which  went  to  make  up 
that  complex  character  were  displayed  very  com- 
pletely at  Brooks's,  the  old  club  in  St.  James's 
Street  which  has  now  lighted  its  candles  con- 
tinuously for  just  a  hundred  and  forty-five  years. 
Fox  was  the  presiding  genius  of  the  early  Brooks's. 
The  club  may  be  regarded  as  his  home  during  the 
first  twenty  years  of  his  career.  Here  the  extra- 
ordinary charm  of  his  manner  drew  his  friends 
around  him,  and  converted  a  society  which  at  first 
lacked  all  colour  of  politics  into  the  citadel  of  his 
party.  At  Brooks's,  above  all,  Fox  developed  that 
passion  for  high  play  which  made  him  the  very 
prototype  of  all  gamesters  and  kept  him  in  a 
chronic  state  of  distress  which  would  have  sub- 
merged a  weaker  nature,  until  at  the  age  of  near 
fifty  he  was  rescued  by  a  subscription  of  £70,000 
among  his  friends  at  the  club. 

Those  same  exploits  of  Fox  at  the  hazard  and 
faro  tables  at  Brooks's  are  well  known,  but  they 
have  perhaps  received  less  attention  than  might 
have  been  expected.  Fox's  biographers,  from 
Lord  Holland  to  Sir  George  Trevelyan,  naturally, 
and  perhaps  properly,  treat  the  subject  with 
delicacy.  The  enormous  extent  of  Fox's  trans- 
actions at  the  play-tables  is  of  course  recorded, 

230 


THE   COMPLETE   GAMESTER 

and  although  there  has  been  no  desire  to  withhold 
such  censure  as  his  conduct  in  this  particular 
seemed  to  deserve,  the  very  magnitude  of  his  deal- 
ings in  dice  and  cards  has  caused  some  inaccurate 
inferences  to  be  drawn,  and  as  a  consequence  has 
led  to  the  establishment  of  a  very  erroneous 
tradition.  That  tradition,  which  can  be  traced  to 
the  daintiness  with  which  Fox's  biographers  have 
dealt  with  the  subject,  was  undoubtedly  per- 
petuated by  one  of  his  contemporaries,  in  whose 
words  it  is  best  stated.  The  last  Lord  Egremont, 
the  Maecenas  of  Petworth,  a  nobleman  universally 
beloved  who  died  early  in  the  reign  of  Queen 
Victoria,  told  Lord  Holland,  Fox's  nephew  and 
biographer, 

"  That  he  was  convicted  by  reflection  aided  by 
his  subsequent  experience  of  the  world  that  there 
was  at  that  time  some  unfair  confederacy  among 
some  of  the  'players.,  and  that  the  great  losers, 
especially  Mr.  Fox,  were  actually  duped  and 
cheated.  He  would,  he  said,  have  been  torn  in 
pieces  and  stoned  by  the  losers  themselves  for 
even  hinting  such  a  thing  at  the  time.  He  was 
nevertheless  satisfied  that  the  immoderate,  con- 
stant, and  unparalleled  advantage  over  Charles 
Fox  and  other  young  men  were  not  to  be 
accounted  for  by  the  difference  in  passing  or  hold- 
ing the  box  or  the  hazard  of  the  die.  He  had 
indeed  no  suspicion  any  more  than  the  rest  at  the 
time,  but  he  had  thought  it  much  over  since,  and 
now  had." 

231 


IN   THE   DAYS   OF  THE   GEORGES 

These  speculations  of  Lord  Egremont  upon 
events  which  had  happened  half-a-century  earlier, 
unsupported  as  they  are  by  any  evidence,  would 
have  attracted  little  notice  had  they  not  been 
quoted  by  Lord  Holland  in  the  Memorials  of  his 
uncle  in  support  of  the  tradition  we  have  men- 
tioned. But  it  will  be  seen  that  the  acceptance 
of  Lord  Egremont's  suggestion  concerns  more 
reputations  than  one.  The  gaming  at  which  Fox 
is  supposed  to  have  suffered  took  place  almost 
exclusively  at  Brooks's,  and  if  indeed  he  was  vic- 
timized, it  was  at  the  hands  of  members  of  that 
club.  Many  of  these  were  of  great  station  and  all 
of  unsullied  reputation.  There  was  no  question 
of  meeting  at  Brooks's  the  adventurers  who 
swarmed  at  the  public  gaming-tables  of  the  coffee- 
houses. The  club  from  the  first  was  an  exclusive 
society  of  gentlemen,  and  if  there  was  any  unfair 
confederacy  among  the  members  who  met  Charles 
Fox  at  its  play-tables,  the  fame  of  many  notable 
men  of  that  day  is  besmirched.  But  a  considera- 
tion of  the  evidence  which  has  gradually  accumu- 
lated upon  the  details  of  Fox's  private  life  will, 
we  think,  remove  all  such  doubts  and  will  supply 
ample  explanations  of  the  derangement  which 
existed  in  his  finances  in  his  own  conduct,  without 
involving  that  of  others. 

Fox's  career  as  a  gamester  may  be  divided  into 
two  distinct  periods.  For  about  ten  years  follow- 
ing 1768,  when  at  the  age  of  nineteen  he  first 

232 


THE   COMPLETE   GAMESTER 

appeared  as  a  man  about  town,  the  male  society 
of  the  day  was  wholly  given  up  to  a  rage  for 
hazard.  The  game  was  played  for  enormous 
stakes  both  at  the  public  gaming-tables  and  at 
private  assemblies.  But  the  chief  scene  of  high 
play  between  gentlemen  was  at  Almack's,  a  club 
named  after  its  first  proprietor,  which  was  the 
parent  of  the  present  Brooks's,  and  had  been 
opened  in  1764  on  the  site  of  the  Marlborough 
Club  in  Pall  Mall.  Young  Fox  immediately  took 
his  place  among  the  band  of  choice  spirits  who 
made  Almack's  their  rendezvous,  and  became  and 
remained  a  chief  exponent  of  hazard  until  its 
vogue  expired  in  favour  of  faro  shortly  before 
1780. 

Almack's  had  been  founded  by  twenty-seven 
young  men  of  good  birth,  all  under  twenty-five 
years  of  age,  with  the  single  object  of  providing 
a  meeting-place  where  they  might  indulge  their 
passion  for  high  play  undisturbed.  That  object 
is  abundantly  clear  from  the  original  rules.  These 
prescribed  that  no  one  should  sit  down  at  the 
tables  without  a  substantial  sum  in  gold  before 
him;  they  suggest  also  that  every  room  in  the 
club  was  devoted  to  gambling  in  one  form  or 
another,  for  there  is  an  enactment  that  "No 
gaming  be  permitted  in  the  eating-rooom  except 
tossing  for  reckonings,  on  penalty  of  paying  the 
whole  bill  of  the  members  present."  So  well 
were  these  rules  adapted  to  their  purpose  that 

233 


IN   THE   DAYS   OF   THE   GEORGES 

Horace  Walpole  declared  there  was  usually  a  sum 
of  ;£  1 0,000  on  the  table  in  bullion,  and  the  club 
had  not  been  going  a  year  before  the  town  began 
to  ring  with  the  exploits  of  the  generous  youth 
who  haunted  its  rooms  to  the  despair  of  their 
parents  and  guardians. 

When  young  Fox  joined  Almack's,  in  1768, 
there  was  already  assembled  a  compact  band  of 
gamblers  who  devoted  themselves  to  hazard 
Sundays  and  weekdays  throughout  the  season. 
It  was  among  these  men  that  Fox  took  his  place, 
and  if,  as  Lord  Egremont  suggested,  he  was 
duped  and  cheated,  it  was  at  the  hands  of  these 
men  that  he  suffered,  and  we  must  choose  among 
a  very  good  company  for  the  betrayers  of  his 
youth  and  innocence.  The  habitual  frequenters 
of  the  hazard-room  at  Almack's  were  such  men 
as  the  Duke  of  Buccleuch,  Lord  Melbourne,  Lord 
Derby,  Lord  Cholmondeley,  Lord  Clermont, 
Admiral  Rodney  and  Admiral  Pigott,  General 
Burgoyne  and  General  Scott,  Lord  Harrington 
and  Sir  Thomas  Clarges.  To  these  we  may  add 
the  group  of  young  men  who  surrounded  George 
Selwyn,  with  that  gentleman  at  their  head, 
Richard  Fitzpatrick  and  his  brother,  Lord  Upper 
Ossory,  Lord  Carlisle,  Lord  March,  Sir  Charles 
Bunbury,  Lord  Bolingbroke  and  his  brother  Mr. 
St.  John,  Storer,  Hare,  Boothby  and  "Fish" 
Craufurd.  Last  came  the  Fox  group,  Charles 
himself,  his  brother  Stephen,  and  his  cousin  young 

234 


THE   COMPLETE   GAMESTER 

Lord  Stavordale,  one  of  the  boldest  of  all  the 
plungers. 

It  is  surely  inconceivable  that  such  men  as  these 
should  have  conspired  to  cheat  Fox  or  any  one 
else.  Hazard,  moreover,  was  a  game  at  which 
cheating  was  impossible  except  by  the  use  of 
loaded  dice.  It  was  a  game  of  pure  chance  at 
which  the  novice  met  the  most  case-hardened  of 
gamesters  on  equal  terms,  except  perhaps  in  the 
all-important  matter  of  knowing  when  to  stop. 
But  there  is  ample  evidence  of  the  ruin  which 
the  practice  of  the  game  spread  among  the 
players.  The  stakes  were  enormous.  Lord 
Carlisle  lost  £10,000  at  one  cast  at  the  club,  a 
sum  in  no  way  exceptional  if  we  are  to  judge  by 
a  remark  made  by  Lord  Stavordale.  That  young 
gentleman  won  the  same  amount  at  a  throw  at  the 
Cocoa  Tree  and  "  swore  a  great  oath  saying  '  If 
I  had  been  playing  deep,  I  might  have  won 
millions/ '  Obviously  transactions  of  this  sort 
required  capital  on  a  lordly  scale,  and  the  younger 
men  at  Almack's  soon  discovered  a  way  of  supply- 
ing their  wants.  They  would  go  to  the  usurers 
for  large  sums  of  ready  money.  Their  expecta- 
tions would  be  duly  weighed  by  those  gentry,  and 
the  advance  made  in  exchange  for  a  bond  which 
guaranteed  the  payment  of  an  annuity  to  cover 
the  repayment  of  capital  with  interest  reckoned 
on  a  generous  scale.  We  may  form  some  idea  of 
the  aggregate  amount  of  these  transactions  from 

235 


IN  THE   DAYS   OF  THE   GEORGES 

a  remark  of  Horace  Walpole,  who  noted  in  1772 
that  there  were  advertised  to  be  sold  "more 
annuities  of  Charles  Fox  and  his  society."  This 
particular  sale  was  to  secure  the  payment  of 
£$00,000  a  year. 

Hazard  at  Almack's,  indeed,  was  played  with 
money  borrowed  by  the  players  at  ruinous  interest, 
and  there  is  little  need  to  search  for  other  causes 
of  the  disaster  which  it  brought  into  the  affairs  of 
the  men  who  devoted  their  lives  to  the  game.  The 
general  effect  of  the  play  at  Almack's  can  best  be 
followed  in  the  Selwyn  correspondence.  As  one 
man  felt  the  pressure  of  a  debt  of  honour  he  was 
forced  to  apply  to  friends  who  owed  him  sums  on 
a  like  account.  We  may  read  how  Lord  Derby, 
"having  lost  a  very  monstrous  sum  of  money," 
took  the  liberty  of  applying  to  Selwyn  for  a  debt 
which  he  owed  him ;  how  Fitzpatrick,  approached 
by  Selwyn  with  the  same  object,  would  have 
"coined  his  heart  and  dropped  his  blood  into 
drachmas"  had  he  been  able,  but  as  it  was  he 
could  not  raise  a  guinea.  We  learn  too  that 
Admiral  Rodney  had  to  run  off  to  France  to 
avoid  the  bailiffs,  and  that  his  wife,  coming  over 
to  try  to  raise  a  fund  among  his  club-mates  to 
enable  him  to  return,  failed  utterly.  We  may  note 
also  that  a  temporary  withdrawal  from  the  hazard- 
room  was  pleasantly  known  as  "fattening,"  and 
the  inevitable  catastrophe  of  the  return  as  "cut- 
ting up." 

236 


THE   COMPLETE   GAMESTER 

Such  letters  as  these  reflect  some  of  the  diffi- 
culties of  Fox's  companions  at  Brooks's;  there  is 
less  need  to  seek  additional  causes  for  his  own 
embarrassment  because  he  started  life  encumbered 
with  a  heavy  load  of  debt  which  he  had  incurred 
at  nearly  every  capital  on  the  continent  during 
the  grand  tour.  Hazard,  moreover,  was  only  one 
of  his  dissipations,  his  routine  included  riotous 
living  in  every  phase  of  the  life  of  his  day.  A 
typical  instance  is  recorded  by  both  Walpole  and 
Gibbon.  Fox  sat  down  one  evening  at  Brooks's 
at  seven  in  the  evening  and  played  till  five  on 
the  following  afternoon.  He  then  went  to  the 
House  of  Commons  and  delivered  a  speech  upon 
the  Church  Bill.  "Charles  Fox  prepared  him- 
self for  that  holy  work,"  says  Gibbon,  "  by  passing 
twenty-two  hours  in  the  pious  exercise  of  hazard." 
After  the  debate  he  went  to  White's,  where  he 
drank  till  seven  in  the  morning.  A  few  hours  later 
he  returned  to  Brooks's,  where  he  won  £6000  at 
hazard,  and  between  three  and  four  in  the  after- 
noon he  left  London  for  the  races  at  Newmarket. 

This  was  obviously  a  wasteful  mode  of  life 
which  would  require  a  large  fortune  to  maintain, 
while  as  a  fact  Fox  never  had  a  shilling  of  his 
own  after  he  was  grown  up.  Lord  Holland's  last 
years  were  spent  in  trying  to  redeem  the  liabilities 
incurred  by  his  sons,  and  when  in  1774  he  died, 
everything  he  left  to  Charles  was  already  fore- 
stalled, and  that  young  man  was  also  under  heavy 

237 


IN  THE   DAYS   OF   THE   GEORGES 

obligations  to  half  his  friends.  The  estate  of 
Kingsgate  was  seized  by  his  creditors,  and  a  sine- 
cure office  of  £2000  a  year,  to  which  he  had  suc- 
ceeded on  the  death  of  his  brother  Stephen,  went 
the  same  way.  As  to  his  obligations  to  his  ac- 
quaintances their  extent  is  suggested  at  least  by 
a  remark  of  ^Walpole,  who,  in  mentioning  an 
attempted  settlement  of  Charles's  debts  by  Lord 
Holland  a  few  months  before  his  death,  says, 
",The  arrangement  aimed  at  paying  all  Charles's 
debts  with  the  exception  of  a  trifle  of  £30,000 
and  those  of  Lord  Carlisle,  Crewe,  and  Foley, 
who  being  friends,  not  Jews,  may  wait." 

So  far,  indeed,  from  Fox  being  the  victim  of 
his  companions,  it  was  some  of  these  who  enabled 
him  to  keep  his  place  at  the  gaming-tables;  it  is 
clear,  too,  that  he  often  assumed  a  very  jaunty 
attitude  in  face  of  his  liabilities  to  them.  .There 
was  Lord  Carlisle's  case  for  example.  That  young 
nobleman  had  stood  security  for  an  advance  by 
a  money-lender  to  Fox  for  a  sum  of  £15,000. 
Carlisle  himself  was  embarrassed  and  sought 
relief  from  the  payment  of  the  annuity  upon  the 
borrowed  money.  Selwyn,  as  a  friend  of  both 
parties,  endeavoured  to  bring  about  a  settlement 
and  called  upon  Fox  to  suggest  a  discharge  of 
Carlisle's  claim.  "  I  was  answered  only  by  an 
elevation  de  ses  epaules  et  une  grimace"  he 
writes,  and  continues  bitterly,  "  the  Messieurs  Fox 
were  born  for  great  stations,  they  were  educated 

238 


THE  COMPLETE   GAMESTER 

with  great  indulgence,  and  if  the  Jews  won't  pay 
for  them  the  Gentiles  must."  Selwyn  even  ex- 
horted Carlisle  to  resist  the  payment  of  the 
annuity :  "  Let  them  sell  your  furniture  to  call 
attention  to  the  scandal.  In  a  very  little  time  a 
demand  upon  you  will  be  as  good  as  an  accepted 
draft  on  Child's  shop." 

Without  having  been  able  absolutely  to  dis- 
prove Lord  Egremont's  deliberate  statement  that 
Fox  was  cheated  at  hazard,  we  have  perhaps  sug- 
gested other  causes  for  the  dispersal  of  his  fortune 
during  the  vogue  of  that  game.  But  in  coming 
to  the  second  period  of  his  career  as  a  gamester 
we  have  the  advantage  of  a  remarkable  series 
of  letters  which  were  written  to  Lord  Carlisle, 
irom  1780  onwards,  by  Fox's  own  companions 
at  the  club,  Selwyn,  Hare,  and  Storer.  These 
letters  are  rich  in  details  of  the  life  at  Brooks's 
during  the  rage  for  faro  which  succeeded  that  for 
hazard,  and  unless  we  are  to  suppose  that  Fox 
changed  his  disposition  and  his  habits  in  a 
moment,  they  serve  to  throw  a  retrospective  light 
upon  the  period  we  have  already  examined  in 
which  details  are  scarce.  In  any  case  they  dispose 
altogether  of  the  suggestion  that  Fox  was  the 
victim  of  his  companions  after  1780;  on  the  con- 
trary, they  establish  the  fact  that  he  was  the 
winner  of  enormous  sums  at  Brooks's,  and  they 
remove  him  once  and  for  all  from  the  category 
of  the  pigeons. 

*39 


IN   THE   DAYS   OF  THE   GEORGES 

Hazard  suffered  a  decline  in  favour  among 
gentlemen  during  the  few  years  preceding  1780, 
and  the  gamblers  at  Brooks's  were  at  that  time 
looking  out  for  another  game  to  take  its  place. 
The  fame  of  the  doings  at  hazard  at  the  club 
had  not  been  lost  upon  humbler  societies  else- 
where, and  dicing  had  descended  to  low  com- 
panies of  scoundrels  at  disreputable  taverns  and 
coffee-houses  where  cheating  was  general.  All 
sorts  of  ruffians  congregated  at  these  places,  dis- 
putes were  of  daily  occurrence  in  which  men  often 
lost  their  lives,  and  the  results  were  constantly 
before  coroners  and  police  magistrates.  As  a 
consequence  hazard  lost  favour  as  a  game  for 
gentlemen;  certainly  at  Brooks's  it  was  discarded 
in  favour  of  faro. 

Faro,  a  simplified  form  of  basset,  a  game  which 
had  a  great  vogue  in  England  under  the  Stuarts, 
was  played  between  a  dealer,  who  kept  the  bank, 
and  the  rest  of  the  company.  In  essentials  it  was 
perfectly  simple,  and  much  resembled  the  Self 
and  Company  still  played  by  children.  But  there 
were  many  variations  which  made  the  game  at- 
tractive to  all  sorts  of  players  from  the  most 
cautious  to  the  most  reckless.  Ostensibly  it  was 
fair  as  between  dealer  and  the  rest  of  the  com- 
pany, but  as  a  fact  it  was  not  so.  Ties  paid  the 
dealer,  the  last  card  of  the  pack  was  his  in  any 
event,  and  there  were  certain  collective  advan- 
tages known  as  "the  pull  of  the  table,"  which 

240 


THE   COMPLETE   GAMESTER 

made  the  running  of  a  faro-bank  a  very  profitable 
concern. 

The  game  was  introduced  at  Brooks's  by  Charles 
Fox  and  his  friend  Fitzpatrick,  who  had  already 
been  associated  as  partners  at  the  club  during  the 
hazard  period.  In  January  of  1780  we  read  of  the 
pair  setting  up  the  first  faro-table  at  Brooks's  : 
" C'est  une  banque  de  fondation"  wrote  Selwyn 
to  Carlisle,  "  Messieurs  Charles  et  Richard  en  sont 
les  fondateurs,  or  at  least  that  is  my  opinion." 
Before  many  weeks  had  passed  the  partnership 
was  avowed,  and  it  was  soon  clear  to  the  town  that 
all  the  glories  of  hazard  were  to  be  revived  at  Fox 
and  Fitzpatrick's  faro-bank.  The  concern  had 
not  been  running  three  months  before  London 
became  vocal  about  the  ravages  of  the  partner- 
ship upon  the  pockets  of  the  rest  of  the  company. 
Selwyn  himself,  one  of  the  most  seasoned  of  the 
older  set  at  the  club,  was  among  its  first  victims. 
We  find  Storer  writing  to  Carlisle  that  he  was 
afraid  to  speak  to  George  upon  the  subject  of 
faro,  "he  was  so  larmoyant  the  other  morning 
over  his  losses."  A  month  or  so  later  we  have  the 
advantage  of  Selwyn's  remarks  upon  Storer  in 
the  same  connection :  "  Storer  was  out  of  spirits 
after  he  had  been  losing  his  money  like  a  simple 

boy  at  Charles  and  Richard's  d d  faro-bank, 

which  swallows  up  everybody's  cash  who  comes  to 
Brooks's."    Lord  Robert  Spencer  and  his  brother 
Lord  Edward  were  other  victims.    Their  brother 
Q  241 


IN  THE   DAYS   OF  THE   GEORGES 

the  Duke  of  Marlborough  came  to  their  assist- 
ance, but  very  much  to  his  own  embarrassment. 
"  The  Duke  says  he  cannot  now  give  one-third 
to  his  younger  children  of  wEat  he  has  given  to 
his  two  brothers,  who  have  left  him  to  be  seduced 
by  Charles  Fox.  Here  is  a  Fox  running  off  a 
second  time  with  their  geese  from  Marlborough 
House,  as  the  old  Duchess  used  to  say." 

Fox's  success  at  the  new  game  was  so  striking 
that  it  encouraged  competitors.  Early  in  the 
season  of  1781  Walpole  wrote — 

"  My  nephew  Lord  Cholmondeley,  the  banker 
a  la  mode,  has  been  demolished.  He  and  his 
associate,  Sir  Willoughby  Aston,  went  early  the 
other  night  to  Brooks's  before  Charles  Fox  and 
Fitzpatrick  were  come  and  set  up  a  faro-bank, 
but  they  soon  arrived,  attacked  their  rivals,  broke 
the  bank,  and  won  above  ^4000.  '  There/  said 
Fox,  '  so  should  all  usurpers  be  served.' ' 

Fox  indeed,  like  the  iTurk,  would  bear  no 
brother  near  the  throne.  He  and  Fitzpatrick 
resolved  to  keep  the  lucrative  business  of  faro 
at  Brooks's  to  themselves.  To  this  end  they 
decided  to  discourage  competition  by  broadening 
the  basis  of  the  firm,  and  in  1781  they  took  in  as 
junior  partners  men  who  were  potential  rivals  at 
the  club.  These  were  Fox's  great  friend  Hare, 
Lord  Robert  Spencer  (the  victim  of  the  previous 
year),  and  a  gentleman  who  goes  by  the  name  of 
iTrusty  in  the  Carlisle  letters.  These  three  had 

242 


THE   COMPLETE   GAMESTER 

each  a  twelfth  share  in  the  profits,  Fox  and  Fitz- 
patrick  dividing  the  remaining  nine-twelfths.  In 
addition  the  juniors  were  conceded  a  special 
allowance  for  dealing,  a  guinea  for  each  deal  at 
first,  subsequently  reduced  "by  an  edict  of 
Charles  "  to  five  guineas  the  hour,  which  is,  per- 
haps, an  index  to  the  magnitude  of  the  trans- 
actions of  the  firm.  The  heads  of  the  concern 
were  still  the  chief  operators,  but  the  junior  part- 
ners were  expected  to  relieve  them  whenever 
required,  and  to  keep  the  game  going  as  long 
as  a  single  punter  could  be  found  to  lay  a 
stake. 

That  this  is  no  exaggeration  is  plain  from  the 
accounts  of  some  prolonged  sittings  which  at- 
tracted attention  in  1781. 

"  Yesterday  [wrote  Selwyn  in  May]  I  saw  a 
hackney  coach  which  announced  a  late  sitting.  I 
had  the  curiosity  to  inquire  how  things  were,  and 
found  Richard  in  his  faro  pulpit  where  he  had 
been  alternately  with  Charles  since  the  evening 
before,  dealing  to  Admiral  Pigott  only." 

A  week  later  the  Admiral  matched  himself 
against  the  bank  single-handed  throughout  a  sit- 
ting of  twenty-four  hours.  "  The  account  brought 
to  White's  about  supper-time  was  that  he  had  rose 
to  eat  a  mutton-chop,  but  that  merits  confirma- 
tion," is  Selwyn's  jocular  comment  in  the  style  of 
the  news-sheets  of  those  days. 

It  is  not  surprising  to  find  that  a  business  so 

Q2  243 


IN  THE  DAYS   OF  THE   GEORGES 

carefully  founded  and  so  diligently  conducted  had 
a  gratifying  success.  .When  Fox's  political  duties 
required  his  presence  in  the  House  of  Commons, 
or  his  pleasure  took  him  to  Newmarket,  or  if  Fitz- 
patrick  was  with  his  regiment,  Lord  Robert 
Spencer,  Mr.  Hare,  or  Mr.  Trusty  stepped  into 
the  vacant  place  and  continued  the  business  of  the 
firm.  The  calls  of  this  business  were  so  well 
understood  that  the  partners  were  never  asked  to 
dine  at  the  same  hour.  Selwyn  gave  a  party  which 
included  the  bankers.  :<  The  two  not  on  duty 
come  here  at  five,"  he  wrote,  "  and  when  the  other 
two  come  off  they  will  find  des  rechauffees"  Dur- 
ing the  season  of  1781-2  there  was  scarcely  any 
cessation  of  play.  "  The  vestal  fire,"  wrote  Storer, 
"is  perpetually  kept  up,  and  they,  like  salaman- 
ders, flourish  in  the  flames."  The  bankers'  coaches 
were  never  ordered  until  six  in  the  morning,  and 
the  fluctuations  of  the  play  were  the  subject  of  a 
paragraph  in  every  letter.  :<  The  rise  and  fall  of 
the  bank  is  not  yet  added  to  the  other  stocks  in 
the  morning  paper,"  wrote  Selwyn,  "but  it  is 
frequently  declared  from  the  windows  to  passers- 
by." 

An  immediate  effect  of  the  faro  at  Brooks's  was 
a  surprising  change  in  Fox's  affairs,  a  rise  from 
indigence  to  affluence  which  was  at  once  reflected 
in  his  personal  appearance  and  in  his  surround- 
ings. Selwyn  returned  after  a  few  days'  absence 
from  town  to  find 

244 


THE   COMPLETE   GAMESTER 

"  Charles  elbow-deep  in  gold  who  but  a  few  days 
ago  wanted  a  guinea.  .  .  .  He  is  in  high  spirits 
and  cash,  pays  and  loses  and  wins  and  performs 
all  feats  to  make  his  roman  complete.  I  never 
saw  such  a  transition  from  distress  to  opulency, 
from  dirt  to  cleanliness.  I  saw  Charles  to-day  in 
a  new  hat,  frock,  waistcoat,  shirt  and  stockings. 
He  was  as  clean  and  smug  as  a  gentleman ;  if  he  is 
at  last  a  field-preacher,  I  shall  not  be  surprised." 

Fox's  house  became  resplendent  with  paint  and 
varnish;  he  bought  racehorses  for  sums  he  was 
ashamed  to  own ;  he  even  began  to  pay  his  debts. 
At  the  end  of  1781  he  owned  to  Selwyn  that  his 
share  of  the  winnings  amounted  to  ,£30,000,  a  sum 
obtained  solely  from  his  club-mates  at  Brooks's 
which  supported  him  in  all  sorts  of  excesses  else- 
where. He  and  Fitzpatrick  would  leave  the  con- 
duct of  the  game  to  their  juniors  and  go  down  to 
Kenny's  in  Pall  Mall  to  take  a  fling  at  hazard,  lose 
£5000  at  a  sitting,  and,  wonder  of  all,  pay  their 
losses  at  the  time.  Fox  confessed  to  losing 
^  1 0,000  at  the  October  meeting  at  Newmarket, 
and  he  mentioned  to  Selwyn,  as  a  matter  of  no 
importance,  that  he  had  lost  £8000  in  two  days 
"  at  various  sports." 

It  is  worthy  of  note  that  this  period  of  fruitful 
activity  at  Brooks's  coincided  exactly  with  Fox's 
most  inspired  moments  as  a  politician.  His 
oratory  in  the  House  of  Commons  was  already 
shaking  the  Government  and  the  time  was  nearly 
ripe  for  the  return  of  Lord  Rockingham  to  power 

245 


IN  THE  DAYS  OF  THE  GEORGES 

with  Fox  himself  as  a  minister.  The  contrast 
between  the  inspired  orator  at  Westminster  and 
the  f  aro-b'anker  at  Brooks's  was  not  lost  upon  the 
town.  The  town  indeed  could  not  miss  it,  so 
unblushing  and  so  public  were  the  exploits  of  the 
partners  at  the  club. 

:<  The  pharaoh  bank  [writes  Selwyn]  is  held  in 
a  manner  which  being  so  exposed  to  public  view 
bids  defiance  to  all  decency  and  police.  The 
whole  town  as  it  passes  views  the  dealers  and  the 
punters  by  means  of  the  candles  and  windows 
being  level  with  the  ground.  They  remind  me  of 
all  the  little  porpoises  which  you  see  leaping  into 
the  great  one's  mouth  in  the  ombres  chinoises" 

The  contrast  between  the  private  and  political 
life  of  Fox,  indeed,  forced  itself  upon  the  notice 
of  some  of  the  austerer  spirits  of  his  party.  ''  The 
Opposition,  who  have  Charles  for  their  ablest 
advocate,"  says  Selwyn,  "are  quite  ashamed  of 
the  proceedings  and  hate  to  have  them  men- 
tioned." It  was  the  occasion,  too,  for  much  base- 
less scandal  which  need  not  be  repeated  here,  and 
at  the  end  of  the  season  of  1782  there  was  a 
general  feeling  that  faro  at  Brooks's  was  altogether 
too  one-sided  a  game,  and  Selwyn  records  his 
doubts  "  whether  the  people  at  Brooks's  will  suffer 
this  pillage  another  season." 

As  a  fact  they  suffered  many  more,  though  the 
return  of  the  Whigs  to  power  was  the  signal  for 
Fox  to  withdraw  from  any  active  part  in  the  con- 

246 


THE   COMPLETE   GAMESTER 

cern.  "  Spencer  and  Hare  held  the  bank  last 
night,"  writes  Selwyn,  "  but  the  Secretary's  name 
is  ordered  to  be  left  out  of  that  commission,  so 
ostensibly  he  has  no  more  to  do  with  it."  This  is 

4 

partly  confirmatory  of  Lord  Holland's  statement 
that  during  Fox's  spell  of  office  he  never  touched 
a  dice  or  a  card.  As,  however,  his  term  of  office 
lasted  just  four  months  on  this  occasion  and  seven 
during  the  Coalition  of  1783,  the  point  does  not 
seem  of  vast  importance.  It  is  quite  certain  that 
the  bank  was  carried  on,  and  that  it  was  the  parent 
of  others  quite  as  successful.  There  is  ample 
evidence  that  Fox  was  the  centre  of  the  faro  at 
Brooks's  until  1787  at  least,  and  it  is  important 
to  remember  that  he  was  a  banker  throughout  the 
years  during  which  he  played  the  game.  The 
extent  of  his  share  of  the  winnings  may  perhaps 
be  gauged  by  the  luck  of  his  junior  Lord  Robert 
Spencer,  who  retired  a  little  later  with  a  fortune 
with  which  he  purchased  a  landed  estate  at 
Woolbeding. 

Who,  then,  were  the  victims?  The  answer  to 
that  question  is,  "  All  the  men  who  played  faro  at 
the  club  with  the  exception  of  some  half-dozen 
who  ran  the  banks."  A  very  superficial  acquaint- 
ance with  the  private  correspondence  of  the  times 
is  convincing  upon  the  point.  The  male  society 
of  that  day  was  embarrassed  and  set  by  the  ears 
by  their  losses  at  Brooks's :  Selwyn  and  his 
friends,  Sir  Godfrey  Webster,  Sir  Charles  Bun- 

247 


IN  THE   DAYS   OF  THE   GEORGES 

bury,  Lord  Monson,  Sir  J.  Ramsden,  Lord  Bess- 
borough  and  his  son  Lord  Duncannon,  Lord 
Surrey,  Lord  Derby,  the  Duke  of  Devonshire, 
Lord  Clermont,  Lord  Burford,  Lord  Drogheda, 
royal  princes  like  the  Duke  of  York,  eminent 
foreigners  like  the  Duke  of  Orleans  and  the  Due 
de  Lauzun,  Admiral  Pigott,  Lord  Thanet,  and 
Lord  Foley.  Some  of  these  had  the  resolution 
to  set  moderate  limits  to  their  play,  but  the  regular 
loss  of  a  few  hundreds  by  each  of  the  rank  and 
file  provided  a  handsome  income  for  the  bankers. 
Of  others,  whose  recklessness  knew  no  bounds, 
the  estates  and  the  descendants  are  suffering  to- 
day. Typical  of  these  was  Lord  Foley,  who  died 
with  a  heavily  charged  estate  and  without  a  shil- 
ling in  1793.  He  had  started  life  not  many  years 
before  with  an  unencumbered  property,  an  income 
of  ;£  1 8,000  a  year,  and  £100,000  in  ready  money. 
It  may  be  further  asked  what  became  of  Fox's 
winnings.  Here  again,  the  particulars  of  his  pri- 
vate life,  and  some  well-known  peculiarities  of  his 
temperament,  supply  a  complete  answer.  Fox 
was  submerged  as  a  youth,  and  nothing  but  a  life 
of  strict  economy  and  a  large  income  could  have 
put  him  straight  again ;  but  he  was  a  spendthrift 
by  nature,  incapable  of  keeping  a  shilling  in  his 
pocket,  and  a  man,  moreover,  who  ran  through  the 
gamut  of  dissipation  in  every  form  until  he  arrived 
at  middle  age.  Knowing  what  we  do  of  his  life, 
another  question  is  perhaps  the  more  pertinent. 

248 


THE   COMPLETE   GAMESTER 

Whence,  after  his  father's  death  in  1774,  came  the 
funds  to  provide  for  his  royal  extravagance  ?  The 
answer  is  that  he  was  supported  for  years  by  the 
losses  of  his  club-mates  at  Brooks's,  the  very  men 
who  according  to  Lord  Egremont  conspired  to 
cheat  him. 

That  his  lordship  was  perfectly  sincere  in  his 
opinion  there  can  be  no  doubt,  but  his  remarks 
were  evidently  inspired  by  a  good-natured  desire 
to  find  some  excuse  for  the  shortcomings  of  a  great 
Englishman  whose  enemies  even  acknowledged 
at  the  last  that  his  virtues  were  all  his  own  and  his 
vices  only  assumed.  Fox's  virtues  and  vices  have 
long  since  been  weighed  in  the  balance,  and  the 
fact  that  his  reputation  has  survived  the  ordeal 
is  a  proof  of  his  real  greatness.  The  fame  of  a 
lesser  nature  than  his  would  have  been  extin- 
guished by  the  astonishing  record  of  his  follies. 


VI 
THE   INCOMPARABLE   BRUMMELL 


251 


VI 
THE   INCOMPARABLE   BRUMMELL 

THERE  came  upon  the  town  under  the  patron- 
age of  the  Prince  of  Wales  in  the  year  1794  a 
young  fellow  of  sixteen  who  was  destined  to  a 
very  remarkable  career.  The  Prince,  as  honorary 
Colonel  of  the  Tenth  Hussars,  had  presented  the 
boy  with  a  commission  in  that  fashionable  regi- 
ment, and  young  Mr.  Brummell  may  thus  be  said 
to  have  entered  life  under  very  distinguished 
auspices,  of  which,  to  do  him  justice,  he  was  not 
slow  to  take  advantage.  He  gained  no  military 
distinction,  it  is  true,  though  the  times  offered 
great  chances  for  young  gentlemen  of  spirit  en- 
tering the  army,  and  there  was  many  a  young 
officer,  afterwards  known  to  fame,  learning  the 
goose-step  in  the  year  1 794.  As  a  fact,  Mr.  George 
Brummell  quitted  the  service  within  four  years, 
and,  so  far  as  can  be  learned,  his  only  military 
feat  was  performed  as  one  of  the  escort  which 
in  1795  conducted  his  royal  patron's  luckless 
bride,  Princess  Caroline,  from  Greenwich  to  her 
dismal  wedding  at  St.  James's.  Mr.  Brummell's 
avocations,  therefore,  were  eminently  peaceful, 

253 


IN  THE   DAYS   OF  THE   GEORGES 

and  it  was  upon  no  stricken  field  in  Spain  or 
Flanders  that  he  gained  his  prodigious  reputation. 
Yet  it  is  probable  that  to  a  large  section  of  the 
society  of  that  day  the  position  attained  by  Mr. 
Brummell  at  the  age  of  five-and-twenty  presented 
greater  attractions  than  military  renown,  however 
distinguished.  Lord  Byron  declared  candidly 
that  he  would  have  rather  been  Brummell  than 
Napoleon  Bonaparte.  Whether  his  lordship's  re- 
mark is  a  proof  of  his  judgment  may  be  doubted, 
but  of  Brummeirs  social  splendour  there  is  no 
doubt  whatever.  At  that  early  age  an  exclusive 
and  rich  aristocracy  was  at  his  feet;  his  royal 
patron  was  affected  to  tears  when  this  paragon 
differed  with  him  upon  a  matter  of  taste;  the 
proudest  ladies  in  England  were  grateful  to  him 
for  a  word  of  civility  to  their  daughters.  As  for 
tradesmen,  his  patronage  of  jewellers,  tailors  and 
tobacconists  made  their  fortunes,  though  he 
rarely  paid  their  bills.  Considering  his  origin, 
and  the  epoch  in  which  he  flourished,  George 
Bryan  Brummell  must  be  regarded  as  a  phenome- 
non. There  is  record  of  others  of  his  calling,  of 
course,  in  the  annals  of  most  nations  since  history 
began,  but  the  great  dandies  of  history,  from  Alci- 
biades  downwards,  have  had  other  and  greater 
qualities  than  those  of  exquisite  deportment ;  they 
have  been  soldiers,  statesmen,  poets  or  scholars. 
Brummell  was  none  of  these;  yet  he  reigned 
supreme  in  British  society  for  near  twenty  years, 

254 


THE   INCOMPARABLE   BRUMMELL 

and  he  founded  a  dynasty  of  social  despots  to 
succeed  him  whose  power  is  remembered  by 
people  still  living.  Solemn  biographies  have  been 
written  about  Brummell  and  his  career,  and  treat- 
ises on  the  cult  of  dandyism  which  he  founded 
are  not  rare,  especially  in  France,  where  its  splen- 
dour excited  great  admiration.  For  us  the  famous 
beau  and  his  success  have  a  particular  interest, 
for  they  may  be  regarded,  though  in  a  limited 
aspect,  as  the  very  blossom  of  one  of  the  periods 
we  seek  to  illustrate ;  that  of  the  Regency.  There 
is  probably  nothing  more  to  appear  about  Brum- 
mell; the  memoir  writers  and  the  correspondents 
and  diarists  of  his  time  have  done  their  best  for 
him;  he  has  been  dead  nearly  seventy  years,  and 
his  real  career  closed  a  quarter  of  a  century  earlier. 
So  the  time  seems  ripe  for  an  impartial  estimate 
of  his  character. 

The  young  man  who  was  destined  to  the  posi- 
tion of  arbiter  of  social  life  in  England  at  a  time 
when  social  caste  was  of  a  very  inflexible  texture, 
and  classes  were  more  sharply  divided  than  at 
present,  certainly  owed  nothing  of  his  success  to 
any  advantage  of  birth.  George  Bryan  Brum- 
mell came  of  respectable  parentage,  but  his  origin 
was  distinctly  middle-class.  His  grandfather, 
William  Brummell,  was  a  tradesman,  a  confec- 
tioner, it  is  said,  who  lived  in  Bury  Street,  St. 
James's,  and  had  been  at  one  time  a  servant  to 
Mr.  Charles  Monson,  brother  of  the  first  peer  of 

255 


IN  THE   DAYS   OF   THE   GEORGES 

that  name.  William  was  accustomed  to  add  to 
his  income  by  letting  lodgings  at  his  house  in 
Bury  Street,  and  had  a  son,  another  William,  an 
industrious  and  capable  boy,  who,  among  other 
accomplishments,  wrote  a  very  excellent  hand. 
His  penmanship,  in  fact,  was  displayed  to  such 
advantage  in  the  notice  of  "Apartments  to  Let" 
which  was  exposed  in  the  window  in  Bury  Street, 
that  it  is  said  to  have  attracted  the  attention  of  Mr. 
Charles  Jenkinson,  afterwards  Earl  of  Liverpool, 
and  at  the  time  a  politician  of  some  note  in  the 
early  governments  of  King  George  the  Third.  In 
any  case,  Mr.  Jenkinson  took  rooms  with  old 
Brummell  in  Bury  Street,  and  in  so  doing  founded 
the  modest  fortunes  of  the  Brummell  family. 

Mr.  Jenkinson,  who  became  an  under-secretary 
in  the  Duke  of  Newcastle's  administration  in 
1761,  was  then,  and  later,  a  very  busy  gentleman, 
and  he  found  young  William  Brummell,  with  his 
nice  handwriting  and  general  intelligence  and 
obliging  disposition,  a  great  help  in  his  corre- 
spondence. It  was  not  long  before  he  offered  the 
boy  regular  employment  as  his  amanuensis,  and 
himself  getting  promotion  as  Secretary  of  the 
Treasury  a  year  or  two  later,  bestowed  a  clerk- 
ship in  that  department  upon  young  Brummell, 
who  thus  took  a  first  step  which  led  on  to  fortune. 
Jenkinson  recommended  the  young  clerk  for  his 
intelligence  and  industry  to  Lord  North,  who  in 
1767  made  him  his  private  secretary,  and  William 

256 


THE    INCOMPARABLE   BRUMMELL 

Brummell  shared  the  fortunes  of  that  minister, 
and  was  thenceforward  in  the  centre  of  great 
affairs.  BrummeH's  work  appears  little  in  the 
annals  of  the  time,  but  there  is  no  doubt  he  was 
the  minister's  right-hand  man.  It  is  recorded  that 
when  London  lay  at  the  mercy  of  Lord  George 
Gordon's  mob  in  1780,  and  his  lordship  was  so 
concerned  at  the  aspect  of  affairs  that  he  found  it 
necessary  to  consult  his  chief  adversary,  Mr. 
Charles  James  Fox,  at  a  secret  meeting  arranged 
by  Mr.  Sheridan  behind  the  scenes  of  his  theatre, 
it  was  William  Brummell  who  attended  the  min- 
ister at  his  conference  with  those  statesmen. 

William  Brummell  thus  started  well  in  life, 
improved  his  prospects  by  a  judicious  marriage, 
the  lady  of  his  choice  being  a,  Miss  Richardson, 
daughter  of  a  gentleman  official  of  the  Lottery 
Office.  The  Richardsons  claimed  descent  from 
some  legal  big-wig  of  the  time  of  James  the  First, 
the  young  lady's  father  was  a  friend  of  Mr. 
Thomas  Coutts  the  banker,  and  "an  expensive 
man  about  town,"  and  was  inclined  to  look 
askance  at  the  pretensions  of  the  Treasury  Clerk 
to  be  his  son-in-law.  But  his  objections  were 
overcome,  the  marriage  duly  took  place,  and  the 
Richardsons  assuredly  never  regretted  it.  In 
1788  William  Brummell  was  able  to  retire  to  a 
country  house  in  Berkshire,  became  high  sheriff  of 
that  county,  and  bore  the  reputation  of  great 
charity.  He  was  a  man  of  substance,  of  a  liberal 
R  257 


hospitality  and  of  general  good  report,  and  num- 
bered men  like  Fox  and  Sheridan  among  his 
friends.  When  his  time  came,  in  1793,  he  was 
still  in  possession  of  receiverships,  comptroller- 
ships  and  other  sinecures  which  were  the  privilege 
of  the  fortunate  in  those  comfortable  days,  worth 
altogether  £2500  a  year,  and  left  a  considerable 
fortune  to  be  divided  among  his  two  sons  and 
daughter.  George's  share  was  £30,000,  which, 
however,  he  wras  not  allowed  to  handle  until  he 
attained  his  twentieth  year. 

There  was  thus  no  mystery  about  the  origin  of 
Beau  Brummell ;  the  history  of  his  family,  indeed, 
was  to  be  read,  and  may  perhaps  still  be  read, 
on  their  gravestones  in  the  churchyards  of  St. 
James's  and  St.  Martin's-in-the-Fields.  ,To  do 
the  Beau  justice,  he  never  made  any  secret  about 
it.  In  his  later  years  he  used  to  swear  "by  the 
graves  of  my  humble  ancestors  lying  in  their 
parish  churchyards";  even  in  the  days  of  his 
prosperity  he  had  no  delicacy  in  alluding  to  the 
unfashionable  status  of  his  forebears.  He  was 
once  asked  of  his  father  and  mother.  "  Dead 
years  ago,"  was  the  reply,  "  the  poor  old  creatures 
both  cut  their  own  throats  eating  peas  with  a 
knife." 

Young  Brummell  went  early  to  Eton,  where  he 
seems  to  have  been  generally  liked.  When  only 
a  few  years  later  he  was  established  in  London 
as  a  social  autocrat,  many  men  of  his  own  age 

258 


THE   INCOMPARABLE   BRUMMELL 

recalled  the  good-natured  school-boy,  popular 
with  his  masters,  his  dame  and  his  school-fellows. 
Dr.  Goodall  and  his  own  tutor  Hawtree  both 
petted  him.  He  was  remarkable  for  good  humour, 
ready  wit,  and  a  love  of  fun,  as  well  as  for  neat- 
ness in  dress  and  a  gentleman-like  demeanour. 
He  was  the  leading  spirit  in  a  serenade  under  the 
window  of  a  daughter  of  one  of  the  masters,  the 
music  of  which  consisted  of  a  French  horn,  a 
triangle  and  a  hurdy-gurdy.  His  chief  school 
friends  were  Lord  Lake,  George  Leigh,  Jack 
Musters  and  Berkeley  Craven.  "  A  clever,  frank 
boy,  not  in  the  least  conceited,"  was  the  report 
of  his  fag-master  in  later  years.  "  I  knew  him 
well,  sir,"  said  another  school-fellow,  "he  was 
never  flogged,  and  a  man,  sir,  is  not  worth  a  damn 
who  is  never  flogged  at  school."  There  were 
indications,  none  the  less,  of  his  future  eminence 
as  a  man  of  fashion.  It  was  early  noticed  that  he 
avoided  the  muddy  streets  on  rainy  days,  and  was 
particularly  careful  in  his  dress.  There  i£  a  tradi- 
tion of  young  "  Buck  Brummell,"  as  he  came  to 
be  called  at  Eton,  in  a  white  stock  with  a  gold 
buckle  on  the  back  of  the  neck,  which  seems  pro- 
phetic of  some  of  the  later  glories  of  Chesterfield 
Street.  His  mental  attitude  towards  the  rougher 
aspect  of  the  world  also  seems  to  have  attained 
a  certain  refinement,  if  one  may  judge  by  a  story 
of  those  schooldays.  There  was  a  row  in  the 
town  between  a  band  of  the  schoolboys  and  some 

R2  259 


IN   THE   DAYS   OF  THE   GEORGES 

young  bargees,  in  which  one  of  the  latter  remained 
as  prisoner  of  war.  A  court-martial  decided  that 
he  should  be  thrown  over  Windsor  Bridge  into 
the  Thames,  but  Brummell  interfered.  :'The 
fellow,"  he  said,  "is  in  such  a  high  state  of  per- 
spiration that  he  will  certainly  catch  cold." 

Brummell  went  from  Eton  to  Oxford,  where 
at  Oriel  he  was  less  popular.  He  seems  to  have 
dropped  his  simplicity,  and  was  soon  accused  of 
being  a  tuft-hunter.  He  cut  one  old  Eton  ac- 
quaintance because  he  found  him  at  an  inferior 
college ;  another  of  his  own,  because  he  asked  him 
to  meet  some  young  man  whom  he  did  not  consider 
of  sufficient  social  importance.  Thus  early  did 
Brummell  adopt  those  pretensions  which  later 
stood  him  in  such  good  stead.  He  still  kept  a 
reputation  for  wit,  and  was  the  supposed  author 
of  half  the  squibs  written  during  his  time,  but 
he  did  no  work  and  entered  for  the  Newdigate,  for 
which  he  was  second,  simply  because  his  friends 
declared  that  he  .was  incapable  of  any  serious 
effort.  But  little  is  really  known  of  Brummell  at 
Oxford,  where,  to  be  sure,  he  remained  for  less 
than  twelve  months,  and  that  little  is  preserved 
in  Lister's  Granby,  which,  however,  was  accepted 
at  the  time  as  authentic.  If  that  be  the  fact,  his 
short  career  at  Oriel  would  appear  to  have  been 
characterized  by  what  to-day  might  be  called 
swagger,  tempered  with  a  certain  amount  of 
humour.  He  would  ostentatiously  order  his  horse 

260 


THE   INCOMPARABLE   BRUMMELL 

at  hall-time,  but  there  was  a  certain  humorous 
quality  about  a  prank  of  his  when  he  turned  a 
tame  jackdaw  into  the  quad,  which  walked  and 
pecked  solemnly  over  the  grass  with  a  pair  of 
white  bands  round  its  neck,  and  reminded  all  who 
saw  it  of  BrummeH's  tutor. 

There  are  many  different  accounts  of  his  intro- 
duction to  the  Prince  of  Wales.  Brummell  him- 
self used  to  say  that  he  was  presented  to  his 
Royal  Highness  on  the  terrace  at  Windsor  Castle 
while  at  Eton,  and  that  the  Prince,  hearing  later 
of  his  reputation  for  wit  and  great  social  gifts, 
renewed  the  acquaintance  in  London,  and  was 
so  pleased  with  the  boy's  bearing  that  he  pre- 
sented him  with  his  commission  in  the  Tenth 
Hussars.  Another  account  places  the  first  meet- 
ing at  a  little  dairy  in  the  Green  Park,  where  it 
was  the  fashion  of  that  day  to  call  and  drink 
syllabubs  made  from  the  milk  of  the  red  cows 
which  grazed  in  the  park.  The  keeping  of  these 
cows  was  a  privilege  bestowed  by  George  the 
Third  upon  two  old  ladies,  sisters,  named  Searle, 
who  were  aunts  of  the  Beau,  and  were  accustomed 
to  dispense  their  syllabubs  to  the  quality  in  a 
rustic  lodge  which  stood  in  the  park  opposite 
Clarges  Street.  Here  was  Brummell  one  morn- 
ing when  the  Prince  happened  to  call  with  the 
Marchioness  of  Salisbury,  and,  being  pleased 
with  the  self-possession  of  the  youth,  presented 
him  with  his  pair  of  colours  in  the  Tenth  as  a 

261 


IN   THE   DAYS   OF   THE   GEORGES 

token  of  his  Royal  Highness's  approbation  and 
regard.  The  manner  of  the  first  meeting  of  these 
two  potentates,  however,  is  not  of  great  import- 
ance. What  is  certain  is  that  Brummell  joined 
the  Tenth  on  the  roth  of  June  1794,  under  the 
auspices  of  the  Prince,  and  as  an  accepted  dis- 
ciple of  that  great  master  of  deportment,  Brum- 
mell being  sixteen  at  the  time  and  the  Prince 
thirty-two.  It  is  equally  certain  that  before  ten 
years  were  out  there  was  no  place  for  two  such 
stars  of  fashion  in  the  same  firmament. 

Brummell,  as  might  be  expected,  took  his  mili- 
tary duties  very  lightly,  and  his  immediate  in- 
timacy with  the  Prince  which  followed  the  com- 
mission, provided  a  reason,  if  not  an  excuse,  for 
a  general  slackness  of  duty  and  a  frequent  late- 
ness on  parade.  His  regiment  was  always  quar- 
tered either  in  London  or  at  Brighton,  and  the 
attractions  of  Carlton  House  or  the  Pavilion,  and 
the  august  nature  of  the  commands  which  took 
him  to  one  or  other  of  those  palaces  at  frequent 
intervals,  were  perhaps  taken  into  account  by  his 
superior  officers,  and  saved  him  from  the  repri- 
mand and  discipline  which  were  assuredly  the 
lot  of  less  highly  favoured  subalterns.  In  any 
case  it  was  said  that  the  boy  did  not  know  his  own 
troop,  with  the  single  exception  of  a  front-rank 
man  with  a  blue  nose,  by  whom  he  steered  when 
late  on  parade,  and  who  in  consequence  came  to  be 
pleasantly  known  as  the  Beau's  Beacon.  It  is 

262 


George    Bryan    Brummell 


THE   INCOMPARABLE   BRUMMELL 

recorded,  too,  that  the  Beau  was  always  prepared 
with  an  excuse  of  such  wit  that  it  was  quite  im- 
possible for  the  colonel  to  be  severe  with  so 
pleasant  and  amiable  a  fellow.  He  was  certainly 
very  popular  with  the  officers  of  his  regiment; 
Lord  Petersham,  Lord  R.  Somerset,  Mr.  Bligh, 
Mr.  Lumley,  Lord  Charles  Kerr,  Lord  Charles 
and  Lord  Robert  Manners,  and  other  highly-born 
youth,  were  his  comrades  in  the  Tenth,  and  among 
these  generous  spirits,  with  the  Prince  at  their 
head,  the  Treasury  clerk's  son  took  his  place  as 
an  equal,  and  formed  friendships  which  enabled 
him  to  aspire  to  their  leadership  in  matters  of 
fashion  a  few  years  later.  Brummell  had  as  yet 
hardly  succeeded  to  his  patrimony,  but  several 
stories  of  the  period  indicate  that  he  was  already 
leading  the  life  of  the  affluent  gentleman. 
"  Hallo,  George,"  said  one  of  his  friends  who 
saw  him  changing  horses  at  a  posthouse  between 
London  and  Brighton,  "when  did  you  begin  to 
travel  with  a  chaise  and  four?  "  "  Only  when  my 
valet  gave  me  warning  for  making  him  travel  with 
a  pair,"  was  the  reply. 

The  Beau,  his  military  deficiencies  notwith- 
standing, got  his  captaincy  in  1796,  and  there 
was  a  general  surprise  and  a  good  deal  of  anim- 
adversion when,  early  in  the  year  1798,  he  sud- 
denly announced  his  determination  of  leaving  the 
regiment.  Many  reasons  were  given  for  the  step ; 
his  enemies  said  that  the  prospect  of  hard  knocks 

263 


IN  THE   DAYS   OF  THE   GEORGES 

abroad  was  a  sufficient  reason  for  the  Beau ;  more 
charitable  people  urged  the  necessity  of  wearing 
hair-powder  in  the  regiment,  and  the  Beau's 
known  objection  to  that  messy  fashion  as  a  suffi- 
cient excuse  for  so  exquisite  a  creature.  Hair 
powder,  indeed,  was  one  of  the  burning  questions 
of  the  day  when  Mr.  Pitt  put  a  tax  upon  it,  and 
there  was  a  famous  occasion  at  Woburn  when 
the  Duke  of  Bedford,  Lord  Jersey,  Lord  Angle- 
sey, and  other  austere  Whigs,  all  met  at  a  solemn 
function  and  had  their  hair  cropped  as  a  protest 
against  the  iniquity  of  the  Chancellor  of  the  Ex- 
chequer. So  why  should  not  Mr.  Brummell  have 
conscientious  views  upon  so  great  a  question? 
Others,  again,  said  that  as  the  Tenth  was  ordered 
to  Manchester,  no  one  could  reasonably  expect 
the  peerless  Brummell  to  bury  himself  in  that 
remote  and  dismal  city.  It  is  probable  that  Brum- 
mell, with  his  possession  of  the  little  fortune  in 
view  that  very  year,  had  already  determined  to 
emancipate  himself  from  all  military  restraint, 
light  even  as  that  was  in  the  Tenth  Hussars,  and 
devote  himself  exclusively  to  a  life  of  pleasure. 
It  is  quite  certain  that  he  asked  the  Prince's  per- 
mission before  sending  in  his  papers,  and  that 
he  urged  the  banishment  to  Manchester  as  a 
reason  for  his  request  in  a  very  courtier-like 
manner.  "You  know,  Sir,"  he  said,  "that  would 
separate  me  from  your  Royal  Highness."  In 
any  case,  Brummell  sold  out,  came  into  his 

264 


THE   INCOMPARABLE   BRUMMELL 

^30,000,  and  entered  upon  his  real  career,  that 
of  a  man  of  fashion,  at  a  small  house  in  Mayfair, 
No.  4,  Chesterfield  Street. 

Brummell  began  this  life  in  a  quite  modest 
way,  and  without  those  ridiculous  extravagances 
which  distinguished  his  later  career.  He  had  a 
good  cook,  a  superb'  valet,  a  couple  of  hacks  for 
the  Park,  and  a  sedan  chair  for  his  evening  ex- 
cursions to  dinner,  the  play,  or  the  opera.  He 
gave  dinners  now  and  then,  with  good  cookery 
and  choice  wines,  but  his  house  and  establish- 
ment were  so  small,  and  his  visits  to  other  people's 
festivities  so  frequent,  that  his  own  entertainments 
were  the  cause  of  no  ruinous  expenditure.  At 
this  stage  he  did  not  gamble  or  attend  race  meet- 
ings, and  drank  very  much  less  than  the  majority 
of  his  contemporaries.  The  Prince's  countenance 
had  given  him  an  unassailable  social  position,  his 
friends  were  those  who  were  accustomed  to  dis- 
pense hospitalities  rather  than  receive  them,  and 
there  is  no  doubt  that  had  he  chosen,  Brummell 
might  have  lived  comfortably  within  his  income 
without  forfeiting  any  of  the  social  privileges 
which  he  enjoyed  from  the  first.  As  it  was,  this 
boy's  house  in  Mayfair  became  a  sort  of  shrine 
of  male  fashion,  and  before  he  had  been  there  a 
year,  he  was  accepted  without  question  as  arbiter 
elegantiarum  for  the  whole  town. 

The  ease  with  which  the  Beau  assumed  that 
position  was  astonishing  in  all  the  circumstances, 

265 


IN  THE   DAYS   OF  THE   GEORGES 

and  seems  to  justify  our  regarding  him  as  a  social 
phenomenon.  It  would  have  been  impossible,  of 
course,  without  the  Prince's  patronage,  though 
that  in  itself  was  not  sufficient.  There  were  other 
young  men  about  town  who  shared  that  great 
privilege  without  attaining  any  great  social  emi- 
nence ;  it  was,  indeed,  a  distinct  drag  upon  some 
of  them  who  belonged  to  a  well-defined  set. 
Neither  is  BrummeH's  acknowledged  taste  in  dress 
a  sufficient  explanation  of  his  amazing  success  as 
a  leader  of  fashion,  though  by  all  accounts  this 
was  really  elegant;  Lord  Byron  described  it  as 
"  an  exquisite  propriety."  It  was  due  rather,  one 
is  inclined  to  think,  to  those  two  factors,  combined 
with  a  perfect  self-possession  and  social  aplomb, 
a  real  good-humour  and  good  nature  which  at 
first  made  the  Beau  a  universal  favourite.  Brum- 
mell's  undoubted  insolence,  his  unfeeling  rude- 
ness to  women,  and  his  indecent  attitude  towards 
the  Prince  all  came  later,  when  his  head  had  been 
turned  by  flattery,  and  his  judgment  and  sense  of 
proportion  destroyed  by  success. 

That  success,  intrinsically  so  petty,  but  to  the 
small  and  exclusive  world  in  which  he  moved  so 
important,  is  perfectly  amazing.  One  need  not 
accept  literally  all  the  amusing  stories  which  have 
clustered  about  Brummell's  name  to  be  convinced 
of  it;  the  whole  story  is  set  out  soberly  in  the 
memoirs  and  diaries  of  his  contemporaries,  men 
like  Raikes  and  Berkeley  Craven,  who  were  his 

266 


THE   INCOMPARABLE   BRUMMELL 

intimate  friends,  and  others,  like  Gronow,  who 
hung  about  the  fringe  of  his  acquaintance  and 
sighed  vainly  for  a  position  nearer  the  centre. 
His  receptions  in  Chesterfield  Street  recalled  the 
levees  of  the  great  nobles  of  former  days,  there 
was  many  a  function,  indeed,  at  Carlton  House  in 
that  day  where  the  company  was  less  exclusive. 
Men  like  Prince  Esterhazy,  Lord  Yarmouth, 
Lord  Cholmondeley,  Lord  Fife,  Lord  Wilton 
and  Lord  Petersham  would  wait  together  in  his 
anteroom  until  the  Beau  had  done  with  La 
Fleur,  the  friseur,  and  come  radiant  from  the 
hands  of  that  artist  to  receive  them.  It  was  an 
understood  part  of  the  ritual  to  present  Watson, 
the  Beau's  inestimable  servant,  with  a  seven-shil- 
ling gold  piece  upon  calling ;  what  that  important 
individual  extracted  from  the  tradesmen  who 
thronged  to  Chesterfield  Street  is  not  known,  but 
it  must  have  made  up  a  very  comfortable  income. 
So  soon  as  the  Beau  had  attaineH  his  prime,  there 
was  no  person  of  taste  in  his  circle  who  would 
give  a  tradesman  an  order  without  consulting  him. 
Lord  Wilton  would  order  plate  from  Hamlet,  the 
silversmith  in  St.  Martin's  Court,  or  Lady  Jersey 
diamonds,  and  the  articles  must  be  taken  to  Ches- 
terfield Street  and  receive  Mr.  Brummell's  ap- 
proval before  they  could  be  accepted  by  Mr. 
Hamlet's  patrons;  a  wine  cooler  for  the  Duke  of 
York  must  pass  the  same  ordeal,  and  Lord  Peter- 
sham's dressing-case.  Lady  Hertford  would  give 

267 


IN  THE  DAYS   OF  THE   GEORGES 

a  grand  fete,  and  her  major-domo  must  consult 
the  great  Mr.  Brummell  as  to  all  details  before  a 
finger  could  be  moved  in  the  matter.  It  is  even 
said  that  most  of  the  undoubtedly  fine  pictures 
with  which  the  Prince  enriched  the  royal  collec- 
tion were  only  accepted  from  the  dealers  after 
having  received  the  Beau's  approbation;  though 
where  he  acquired  a  taste  in  the  fine  arts  at  the 
age  of  five-and-twenty  is  difficult  to  discover,  with 
his  record  before  us.  His  little  house  was  filled 
weekly  with  the  offerings  of  his  friends ;  dressing- 
cases,  easy-chairs,  lap-dogs,  wine,  gloves,  snuff, 
and  china,  as  well  as  with  the  humbler  oblations 
of  game,  fish  and  venison.  All  these  he  would 
sort  over,  reserve  a  very  few  for  his  own  use, 
others  as  presents  for  friends,  and  send  the  rest 
back  to  the  tradesmen  who  supplied  them,  who 
made  a  due  allowance  for  them  in  the  Beau's 
account. 

Of  Brummell's  taste  in  the  important  matter  of 
dress  there  is,  as  we  say,  no  doubt.  It  is  entirely 
wrong  to  think  of  the  Beau  as  a  fop  in  appear- 
ance; though  he  took  infinite  pains  in  the  choice 
of  his  tailors,  the  details  of  his  toilette,  the 
material  and  cut  of  his  clothes,  and  the  method 
of  putting  them  on.  But  that  care  was  only  appar- 
ent in  the  propriety  and  neatness  of  the  result, 
and  the  mode  which  he  initiated  was  without  any 
of  the  extravagances  of  former  dandies,  like  the 
Macaronies  of  the  preceding  generation,  or  those 

268 


THE    INCOMPARABLE   BRUMMELL 

exquisites  of  Plantagenet  times  whose  eccentricities 
called  for  sumptuary  laws.  Brummell's  aphorism 
on  the  subject  of  masculine  attire,  that  "a  well- 
dressed  gentleman  ought  to  wear  nothing  which 
would  attract  particular  attention  in  the  street," 
is  in  force  to  this  day,  and  there  is  nothing  at  all 
extravagant  about  his  formula,  "  No  scent,  plenty 
of  linen,  and  country  washing."  Brummell,  in- 
deed, took  the  elements  of  men's  dress  as  he 
found  them,  and  brought  each  to  perfection  in  a 
harmonious  combination.  Masculine  dress  had 
recently  undergone  a  profound  transformation  as 
a  result  of  the  French  Revolution.  The  pictur- 
esque long  coat,  embroidered  waistcoat,  knee 
breeches  and  small  sword,  with  laced  ruffles,  wig 
or  powdered  hair  and  three-cornered  hat,  had 
been  exchanged  for  pantaloons,  cut-away  coat, 
short  waistcoat,  or  breeches  and  top  boots,  accord- 
ing to  the  pursuits  of  the  gentleman  who  wore 
them.  The  Whig  gentleman  in  the  House  of 
Commons  ostentatiously  adopted  the  rather 
bucolic  dress  of  the  smaller  country  squire,  the 
blue  coat,  buff  waistcoat,  breeches  and  top  boots 
of  the  typical  John  Bull,  indeed,  as  a  kind  of 
symbol  of  their  sympathy  with  popular  ideas,  and 
Whigs  of  the  rank  of  the  Duke  of  Norfolk  and  of 
the  political  eminence  of  Charles  Fox  affected  a 
studied  negligence  in  their  dress.  Brummell  took 
the  quieter  elements  of  the  same  attire,  light 
pantaloons,  fancy  waistcoat,  and  well-cut,  tight- 

269 


IN  THE   DAYS  OF   THE   GEORGES 

fitting  coat,  and,  with  the  help  of  the  eminent 
tailors,  made  of  their  harmonious  arrangement  a 
fine  art. 

His  one  innovation  was  the  white  cravat,  and 
upon  this  he  lavished  his  genius.  He  had  a 
theory,  which  he  imparted  to  his  intimates,  that  a 
cravat  could  only  be  properly  tied  by  a  sudden 
inspiration,  and  that  if  that  inspiration  failed  it 
was  necessary  to  begin  over  again.  Such  serious 
views  on  this  mighty  question  doubtless  explained 
the  appearance  of  Mr.  Watson  on  the  staircase 
with  an  armful  of  white  cravats,  and  his  remark 
to  a  favoured  guest,  "  Some  of  our  failures."  To 
another  inquiring  into  the  mysteries  of  the  cult 
Brummell  whispered  the  mystic  word  "  Starch." 
The  famous  neckwear,  it  appears,  consisted  of 
many  feet  of  fine  linen,  stiffened  to  the  exact  de- 
gree which  would  allow  of  three  parts  of  its  length 
to  be  held  up  without  collapsing.  Having  at- 
tained this  fine  temper,  it  was  ready  for  Mr.  Brum- 
mell's  throat,  and  the  central  rite  of  the  toilette 
began.  As  each  fold  encircled  his  neck,  there 
was  a  solemn  bending  down  of  the  Beau's  chin  in 
order  that  it  should  take  a  natural  crease,  this 
being  repeated  until  the  whole  presented  an 
aspect  acceptable  to  his  fastidious  taste,  when  it 
was  secured  by  a  gold  brooch,  and  the  ritual  was 
at  an  end.  A  few,  very  few,  of  his  friends  were 
admitted  to  the  privilege  of  these  mysteries;  the 
Prince,  of  course,  came  when  he  chose,  which 

270 


THE   INCOMPARABLE   BRUMMELL 

was  often.  He  would  honour  the  Beau  by  watch- 
ing him  by  the  hour  at  his  dressing-table,  send 
his  carriage  away,  and,  taking  pot  luck  with  Brum- 
mell  at  dinner,  end  up  by  making  a  night  of  it. 

It  was,  then,  the  Beau's  intimacy  with  that 
highly  placed  personage  in  the  first  place,  and  his 
undoubted  elegance  in  dress,  aided  by  natural 
good  parts,  amiability  and  social  qualities  which 
included  a  keen  sense  of  humour  and  readiness 
of  reply,  that  gave  him  his  vogue.  Later  he  sup- 
ported pretensions  to  which  neither  birth  nor  for- 
tune entitled  him  by  less  admirable  qualities, 
unfeeling  rudeness,  unblushing  impudence,  arro- 
gant insolence.  ,The  Beau,  indeed,  made  no 
secret  of  the  great  part  played  by  his  impudence 
in  his  success.  "  It  is  folly  that  is  the  making  of 
me,"  he  once  admitted,  "  if  I  did  not  impudently 
stare  duchesses  out  of  countenance,  and  nod 
over  my  shoulder  to  a  prince,  I  should  be  for- 
gotten in  a  week."  But  nothing  in  the  World 
could  excuse  some  of  the  incidents  of  his  later 
career  in  London;  his  atrocious  allusion  to  Mrs. 
Fitzherbert's  position,  for  example,  or  the  attitude 
he  eventually  adopted  towards  the  Prince  Regent, 
who,  when  all  is  said,  was  still  Brummeirs 
sovereign,  to  whom,  moreover,  he  owed  a  great 
part  of  what  social  eminence  he  possessed. 

Brummeirs  reign  may  be  divided  into  two  dis- 
tinct periods — that  from  1798,  when  he  left  the 
Tenth  Hussars,  up  to  about  1804,  during  which 

271 


IN  THE   DAYS   OF   THE   GEORGES 

he  shared  his  social  throne  with  the  Prince;  and 
a  later  period  of  about  twelve  years,  ending  in 
1816,  during  which  he  reigned  alone.  There  is 
no  reason  to  believe  that  Brummell  shared  the 
grosser  orgies  of  Carlton  House  or  the  Pavilion 
with  the  Regent;  he  was,  of  course,  often  with 
the  Prince,  and  appeared  with  him  almost  daily 
in  the  Park  or  St.  James's  Street,  but  he  visited 
also  many  houses  whose  owners  had  no  part  or 
lot  with  the  set  which  surrounded  the  Prince, 
and  for  whose  ladies  such  a  society  was  absolutely 
impossible.  Brummeirs  tastes  alone  would  keep 
him  from  any  greater  share  in  the  carousals  of  the 
Lades,  Hangers,  Macmahons  and  Morrisses  than 
was  necessary  to  maintain  his  footing  with  the 
Prince;  there  are  stories,  indeed,  which  point 
directly  to  that  fact,  and  to  his  independence  and 
determination  to  resist  any  compulsion  in  such 
matters.  The  Prince  once  filled  glasses  with  neat 
brandy,  and  passed  one  to  the  Beau.  "  Excuse 
me,  Sir,"  said  Brummell,  "but  I  don't  drink 
spirits."  "  Nonsense,"  was  the  reply,  "we  are  all 
going  to  take  some."  "Are  you,  Sir;  I'm  very 
sorry  to  hear  it,  and  I  am  not."  So  the  Beau  sat 
over  his  wine  unmoved,  and  watched  the  rest  of 
the  company  under  the  table. 

Brummell,  indeed,  up  to  a  point,  undoubtedly 
exercised  a  good  influence.  He  was  accepted 
from  the  first  by  the  most  honoured  names  in 
English  society;  the  Dukes  of  Rutland,  Bed- 

272 


THE   INCOMPARABLE   BRUMMELL 

ford,  Beaufort  were  his  intimate  friends;  he  was 
on  cordial  terms  of  friendship  with  Georgiana 
Duchess  of  Devonshire ;  Chatsworth,  Woburn  and 
Belvoir  were  among  the  great  country  houses 
which  were  open  to  him  at  all  times.  At  Woburn 
and  Belvoir,  indeed,  special  rooms  were  kept  for 
this  great  young  man's  occupation,  and  other 
guests  occupying  them  must  turn  out  when  Mr. 
Brummell  announced  his  intention  of  paying  a 
visit.  The  Duke  of  Argyll,  the  Earl  of  Fife, 
Lord  Willoughby  d'Eresby,  Lord  Delamere, 
Lord  Hertford  and  his  son  Lord  Yarmouth,  Mr. 
Pitt's  brother,  Lord  Chatham,  Lord  Petersham, 
the  heir  of  the  Stanhopes,  and  men  like  General 
Grosvenor,  Sir  W.  Watkin  Wynn,  and  Mr.  Daw- 
son  Darner  were  all  among  his  earlier  intimates 
of  whose  hospitalities  he  partook  when  it  pleased 
him,  and  whose  great  social  influence  he  shared. 

Brummell  was  altogether  opposed  to  the  cult  of 
the  stables  and  the  prize-ring  wrhich  was  affected 
by  a  number  of  well-born  young  men  at  this 
period,  men  who  drove  their  own  vehicles,  dressed 
like  their  grooms,  and  sought  to  emulate  the  pro- 
fessional coachman  by  many  extraordinary  antics. 
Some  of  these  gentlemen,  it  is  said,  had  their  teeth 
filed  in  order  the  better  to  expectorate  in  the 
manner  approved  by  the  drivers  of  stage  coaches. 
Against  this  tendency  among  men  of  fashion 
Brummell  resolutely  set  his  face.  He  made  great 
fun  of  the  country  gentlemen  who  assembled  in 


IN   THE   DAYS   OF   THE   GEORGES 

force  at  Boodle's,  whose  boots,  he  said,  smelt  of 
bad  blacking  and  the  stables,  and  he  undoubtedly 
checked  a  movement  among  men  of  birth  which 
was  quite  new  in  such  company,  and  threatened 
to  assume  large  proportions.  The  Beau,  as  a  fact, 
was  no  sportsman.  He  hated  exertion  of  any  sort, 
and  never  formed  one  of  a  shooting  party  if  he 
could  avoid  it;  he  disliked  the  battue,  he  said. 
He  hunted  in  a  tepid  fashion,  it  is  true,  and  was 
on  such  terms  with  the  Duke  of  Rutland,  that  he 
was  allowed  to  keep  a  stud  of  hunters  at  Belvoir. 
But  he  generally  confined  his  hunting  to  an  ap- 
pearance at  the  meet,  and  to  riding  over  a  field  or 
two,  when  he  would  return  to  the  castle,  and  write 
verses  in  the  Duchess's  album,  or  make  some  of 
the  pretty  little  water-colour  drawings  for  which 
he  was  famous.  There  are  stray  records  of  the 
Beau  at  Belvoir  scattered  about  the  letters  and 
memoirs  of  his  time;  the  poet  Crabbe  met  him 
there,  and  was  favourably  impressed  with  the  great 
man.  "  I  was  particularly  pleased  and  amused," 
he  wrote,  "  with  the  conversation  of  the  celebrated 
Beau  Brummell."  Some  tuneful  foxhunter,  also, 
left  an  impression  of  the  Beau's  horsemanship  as 
it  appeared  to  the  hunting  men  of  the  Belvoir 
country. 

"Beau  Brummell,  God  bless  us,  how  ventures  he  here, 
Delighting  our  eyes  and  our  noses ; 
He  splashes  through  ditches  in  kerseymere  breeches, 
And  streaming  with  attar  of  roses." 
274 


THE   INCOMPARABLE   BRUMMELL 

Thomas  Raikes,  who  was  at  Eton  with  Brum- 
mell,  and  knew  him  well  in  later  life,  and  himself 
a  notable  dandy  and  man  about  town,  has  in  his 
Diary  left  a  not  unattractive  picture  of  the  Beau 
during  this  early  part  of  his  career,  the  period 
before  he  was  spoiled,  and  before  he  developed 
those  faults  of  taste  and  feeling  at  which  we  have 
already  hinted. 

"  He  was  in  his  time  the  very  glass  of  fashion, 
every  one  from  the  highest  to  the  lowest  conspired 
to  spoil  him,  but  who  that  knew  him  could  deny 
that  he  was  still  the  most  gentlemanlike,  the  most 
agreeable  of  companions?  Never  was  a  man 
who  during  his  career  had  such  an  undoubted  in- 
fluence, such  general  popularity  in  society.  He 
was  the  idol  of  the  women;  happy  was  she  in 
whose  opera  box  he  would  pass  an  hour,  at  whose 
table  he  would  dine,  and  whose  assembly  he  would 
honour,  and  why?  Not  only  because  he  was  a 
host  of  amusement  in  himself  with  his  jokes  and 
jeers,  but  because  he  was  such  a  favourite  with  the 
men  that  alf  were  anxious  to  join  the  party.  In 
those  days,  too,  it  was  considered  necessary  that 
a  well-bred  man  should  still  have  some  little  tinc- 
ture of  the  old  school,  and  this  Brummell  pos- 
sessed. He  was  liberal,  friendly,  serviceable 
without  any  shuffling  or  tortuous  policy  or  mean- 
ness, or  manoeuvring  for  underhand  objects;  him- 
self of  no  rank  or  family,  but  living  always  with 
the  highest  and  noblest  in  the  country  on  terms  of 
intimacy  and  familiarity,  on  the  contrary,  courted, 
applauded  and  imitated,  protecting  rather  than 
protected,  and  exercising  an  influence,  a  fascina- 
S2  275 


IN   THE   DAYS   OF   THE   GEORGES 

tion   in    society   which    no    one    felt    a   wish    to 
resist." 

This  eulogy  of  Mr.  Raikes  presents  the  Beau 
in  an  amiable  light,  and  as  occupying  a  very  envi- 
able position.  It  also  gives  pause  to  any  critic 
of  Brummell  who,  remembering  his  later  faults 
and  excesses,  would  be  inclined  to  estimate  the 
man  himself  as  an  impudent  parvenu,  and  his 
influence  as  the  cult  of  a  coat  and  a  neckcloth  at 
the  best.  It  is  quite  obvious  that  to  have  been 
able  to  choose  his  friends  from  among  the  great 
families  we  have  mentioned,  and  to  assume  the 
position  among  them  that  he  did,  the  Beau  must 
have  been  possessed  of  many  good  qualities,  and 
have  tempered  his  wit  and  self-assurance  with 
kindliness  and  moderation.  It  is  certain  that  the 
proud  society  of  that  day  would  have  accepted 
no  impudent  pretender  as  their  leader  in  all  the 
graces  and  refinements  of  life.  How  came  it,  then, 
that  a  man  who  had  attained  in  early  life  a  position 
which  a  man  of  whatever  rank  and  fortune  might 
be  loth  to  forfeit,  came  to  be  remembered  as  the 
prince  of  fribbles  and  loungers,  and  the  broken 
spendthrift,  unstable  in  money  matters,  who  lived 
for  years  on  the  friends  whose  kindness  he  abused, 
to  die  at  last  in  a  French  hospital? 

The  answer  to  that  question,  like  that  other 
concerning  his  rise,  involves  the  consideration  of 
more  than  a  single  cause.  Primarily,  of  course, 

276 


THE   INCOMPARABLE   BRUMMELL 

the  Beau's  downfall  was  owing  to  a  constitutional 
lack  of  balance,  which  rendered  him,  like  many 
another  man  of  greater  parts,  incapable  of  bearing 
prosperity.     Another  contributing  cause  was  his 
reckless  extravagance.     It  is  difficult,  indeed,  even 
to  guess  at  the  mental  attitude  of  men  of  his  class 
towards  such  commonplace  matters  as  questions  of 
ways  and  means ;  so  it  is  useless  to  speculate  upon 
his  expectation  of  being  able  to  provide  for  the 
life  he  was  leading  with  his   small   fortune   of 
£30,000^  possibly  he  never  gave  the  matter  a 
thought,  and  lived  for  the  day  only.     Finally,  the 
Beau's  doom  was  sealed  and  completed  by  the 
revival  in  English  society  of  more  worthy  ideals. 
The  peace  which  followed  Waterloo  gave  time  for 
society  to  pause  and  estimate  the  claims  of  the 
aspirants  for  its  favour ;  to  weigh,  indeed,  the  worth 
of  the  man  who  had  ruled  the  social  roost  in  Lon- 
don for  twenty  years,  and  that  of  the  men  who  had 
broken  the  power  of  the  enemy  in  a  score  of  hard- 
fought  battles,  and  by  their  success  in  keeping  the 
coast  of  England  inviolate  had  alone  enabled  the 
fribbles  to  strut  and  posture  in  St.  James's  Street. 
Brummell's  first  downward  step  was  taken  when 
he  assumed  an  improper  attitude  towards  his  royal 
patron  the  Prince  Regent.    The  terms  upon  which 
they  had  met  at  first  were  so  intimate  that  it  was 
almost  impossible  that  they  could  long  continue, 
especially  when  one  of  the  pair  was  a  man  of  such 
known    vanity    and    instability    of    character    as 

277 


IN   THE   DAYS   OF  THE   GEORGES 

George  Prince  of  Wales.  Brummell,  from  all  we 
know  of  him  from  a  hundred  anecdotes,  which, 
true  or  false  in  detail,  undoubtedly  present  a  more 
or  less  accurate  portrait  of  the  man,  was  ever  reck- 
less in  speech  when  a  laugh  was  to  be  raised  or  a 
point  made  in  conversation,  and  was  possessed, 
moreover,  by  a  sort  of  mischievous  impishness, 
which,  often  harmless  in  itself,  is  a  dangerous 
accomplishment  to  practise  in  one's  relations  with 
princes.  The  circumstances  of  the  Regent's  estab- 
lishment also  afforded  many  traps  for  the  unwary, 
especially  for  a  man  who  made  no  particular  effort 
to  conciliate  any  one,  and  whose  independence  of 
bearing  was  apt  to  run  into  licence.  Here  was  a 
Prince  with  a  wife  in  the  unhappy  Princess  Caro- 
line, a  morganatic  wife  in  Mrs.  Fitzherbert  (a  lady, 
however,  who  was  generally  respected  and  ac- 
cepted in  that  relation  by  society  and  the  royal 
family  itself),  and  a  favourite  in  Lady  Jersey  in  a 
position  at  Carlton  House  which  was  perfectly 
well  understood.  If  ever  there  was  a  position  in 
which  it  behoved  an  intimate  of  this  much-married 
prince  to  move  warily,  it  was  that  in  which  affairs 
at  the  Prince's  court  grouped  themselves  during 
the  opening  years  of  the  nineteenth  century.  It 
was,  unhappily,  of  little  moment  how  people  com- 
ported themselves  towards  the  poor  Princess  of 
Wales,  but  to  choose  between  Mrs.  Fitzherbert 
and  Lady  Jersey  was  surely  a  fatal  mistake,  and 
this  act  of  folly  Brummell  committed  when  he 

278 


THE   INCOMPARABLE   BRUMMELL 

openly  took  Lady  Jersey's  side  against  Mrs.  Fitz- 
herbert.  The  national  character  of  the  suggestion 
of  some  of  his  French  biographers  that  he  aspired 
to  be  the  rival  of  his  royal  master  in  the  favours 
of  the  countess  rnay  be  dismissed  as  absurd,  but 
that  he  openly  favoured  her  pretensions  in  the 
royal  menage,  in  opposition  to  those  of  Mrs.  Fitz- 
herbert,  is  certain,  as  is  also  the  very  natural  con- 
sequence of  the  last-named  lady's  resentment. 

The  first  report  of  a  rift  in  the  lute  of  the  rela- 
tions between  the  Beau  and  his  master  is  probably 
only  an  echo  of  that  resentment.  In  company 
with  his  friend  Colonel  Dawson  Dame^  Brum- 
mell  called  upon  Mrs.  Fitzherbert,  with  whom 
they  found  the  Prince.  Whether  she  had  been 
laying  her  grievances  against  Brummell  before  his 
Royal  Highness  is,  of  course,  unknown,  but  it 
seems  probable  from  the  fact  that  both  the  Beau 
and  his  friend  noticed  that  the  Prince  was  moody 
and  taciturn,  and  manifestly  displeased  at  the 
presence  of  the  two  dandies.  His  attitude,  in  fact, 
became  unmistakable  when  Brummell  produced 
his  snuffbox,  helped  himself  to  a  pinch,  and  laid 
the  box  on  a  small  table  near  his  chair.  '  The 
place  for  your  box,  Mr.  Brummell,"  remarked  the 
Prince,  "  is  not  on  that  table,  but  in  your  pocket." 
Brummell  took  the  remark  quietly,  but  obviously 
the  relations  between  the  great  man  and  the 
favourite  were  no  longer  on  their  old  footing,  for 
the  incident  to  be  possible  at  all.  But  worse  was 

279 


IN  THE   DAYS   OF   THE   GEORGES 

to  follow,  and  again  in  connection  with  the  indig- 
nant Mrs.  Fitzherbert.  Mr.  Charles  Ellis  gave  a 
party  at  Seafort  in  1804,  at  which  the  Prince  and 
Mrs.  Fitzherbert  did  him  the  honour  of  being 
present.  Brummell  was  also  invited,  and  drove 
up  to  the  door  unsuspicious  of  any  trouble.  He 
had  scarcely  entered  the  house,  however,  when  the 
Prince  came  into  the  hall  and,  with  much  kindli- 
ness of  manner,  informed  the  Beau  that  his  pre- 
sence would  be  offensive  to  Mrs.  Fitzherbert,  and 
that  the  pleasure  of  the  party  would  be  destroyed 
if  Brummell  sat  down  to  dinner.  The  Beau 
bowed,  but  said  nothing,  turned  on  his  heel, 
recalled  his  chaise,  and  drove  back  to  town. 

Had  Brummell  been  content  with  a  little  less 
display  of  wounded  vanity,  and  accepted  the 
caprice  of  an  angry  woman  as  part  of  the  day's 
work,  it  is  probable  that,  whatever  his  differences 
with  the  Prince,  these  might  have  been  composed, 
or  the  parting  at  least  might  have  taken  place  with 
the  blame  on  the  shoulders  of  his  royal  patron 
instead  of  his  own.  But  that  was  not  the  Beau's 
way.  He  took  up  the  quarrel  with  the  greatest 
spirit,  and  although  there  was  at  first  no  open 
breach  with  the  Prince,  that  became  inevitable 
when  he  included  his  Royal  Highness  in  the  ven- 
detta which  he  waged  against  Mrs.  Fitzherbert, 
and  joined  him  with  the  lady  as  the  object  of  the 
raillery  with  which  he  now  began  to  entertain  the 
town. 

280 


THE   INCOMPARABLE   BRUMMELL 

This  took  the  very  offensive  form  of  overt  allu- 
sions to  the  growing  tendency  of  both  towards 
corpulence.  The  Beau's  pleasant  manner  of 
alluding  to  this  infirmity  was  characteristic.  There 
was  at  Carlton  House  a  gigantic  porter,  so  tall  as 
to  be  able  to  look  over  the  gates,  and  of  a  prodigious 
girth  of  waist,  who  was  well  known  about  the  West 
End  of  the  town  as  Big  Ben.  Brummell,  besides 
making  facetious  remarks  about  the  Prince's  figure, 
began  habitually  to  speak  of  him  as  "  Ben"  to 
third  parties  at  clubs  and  elsewhere,  and  of  Mrs. 
Fitzherbert  as  "  Benina."  There  are  never  want- 
ing persons  to  report  pleasantries  of  this  nature 
to  the  persons  interested,  and  the  Beau's  funny 
remarks  were  soon  known  at  Carlton  House,  as 
perhaps  he  intended.  The  Beau,  indeed,  was 
remorseless  in  his  warfare  against  Mrs.  Fitz- 
herbert, and  the  methods  he  employed  were  soon 
the  talk  of  the  town,  and  one  would  think  should 
have  ruined  his  reputation  as  a  gentleman  for  ever. 
Lady  Jersey  gave  a  ball  at  which  the  Prince,  that 
lady  and  Brummell  were  all  present.  The  Beau 
went  out  of  his  way  to  offer  the  lady  his  arm  at  the 
end  of  the  evening,  and  laid  particular  stress  on 
the  word  "  mistress  "  in  ordering  "  Mistress  Fitz- 
herbert's  carriage  "  in  a  loud  and  distinct  voice  in 
the  hall  filled  with  departing  guests.  Little  won- 
der that  the  Prince  decided  that  the  time  had  come 
to  part  with  a  man  so  lacking  in  the  very  decencies 
of  social  intercourse.  There  is  reason  to  believe 

281 


IN   THE   DAYS   OF  THE   GEORGES 

that  his  Royal  Highness  then  and  there  deter- 
mined to  dismiss  him,  and  to  choose  the  occasion 
and  the  method  of  the  leave-taking  himself. 

There  are  various  accounts  of  the  exact  circum- 
stances in  which  the  great  renunciation  took  place, 
some  of  them  not  wanting  in  the  kind  of  humour 
one  associates  with  Brummell  and  his  set,  all  of 
them  sufficiently  indecent  considering  the  exalted 
station  of  one  of  the  parties.  That  popularly 
accepted  is  certainly  untrue.  One  version  of  this 
story  makes  the  Beau  at  Carlton  House  say  to  the 
Prince,  "  George,  ring  the  bell  "  ;  the  other  makes 
him  reply  to  a  similar  request  by  the  Prince,  "  It 
is  near  your  Royal  Highness."  Brummell  always 
denied  this  story  altogether,  and  protested  that  no 
quarrel  could  have  taken  place  upon  such  a  point, 
because  he  and  the  Prince  were  on  terms  so  inti- 
mate that,  in  the  absence  of  third  parties,  there 
would  have  been  nothing  unusual  in  such  a  request 
on  his  part.  His  version  of  the  parting  was  that 
he  had  been  a  successful  rival  of  the  Prince  in  a 
love  affair. 

Here,  again,  it  is  a  matter  of  the  slightest  im- 
portance to  determine  the  exact  cause  which 
stretched  the  relations  between  the  Prince  and  his 
familiar  to  the  breaking-point,  and  one  may  con- 
clude the  inquiry  by  recalling  a  story  of  the  leave- 
taking  which,  whether  accurate  or  not,  is  quite 
characteristic  of  both.  The  Beau  was  bidden  to 
a  party  of  men  only  at  Carlton  House,  and  the 

282 


THE   INCOMPARABLE   BRUMMELL 

usual  hard  drinking  began  after  the  withdrawal  of 
the  servants.  Brummell  had  a  place  of  honour 
next  the  Prince.  The  Prince  turned  suddenly 
towards  his  old  favourite,  and,  without  a  word, 
threw  a  glass  of  wine  into  his  face.  The  Beau, 
immediately  recovering  his  self-possession,  lifted 
his  own  glass  and  flung  its  contents  into  the  face 
of  his  neighbour  on  the  other  side,  with  the  words, 
:'The  Prince's  toast;  pass  it  round." 

The  story  is  related  upon  the  authority  of  a 
gentleman  who  was  often  at  Carlton  House,  and 
would  appear  to  be  authentic;  but,  whatever  the 
exact  circumstances  of  the  rupture,  it  was  com- 
plete and  final.  Brummell  accepted  the  situation 
with  the  greatest  cheerfulness,  made  no  secret  of 
his  loss  of  favour  with  the  Regent,  but,  on  the 
contrary,  professed  to  glory  in  it.  It  seems  in- 
credible, but  appears  to  be  quite  true,  that  he  had 
the  insolence  to  rally  the  Prince's  own  henchman 
on  the  subject,  and  to  defy  his  royal  master.  "  I 
made  him  what  he  is,"  he  is  said  to  have  remarked 
to  Colonel  Macmahon,  "and  I  can  unmake  him." 
Thomas  Moore  put  the  rumour  into  some  amusing 
verse  when,  in  the  Twopenny  Postbag,  he  made 
the  Regent  say  to  the  Duke  of  York— 

"Nor  have  I  resentments,  nor  wish  there  may  come  ill 
To  mortal,  except,  now  I  think  on't,  Beau  Brummell, 
Who  threatened  last  year,  in  a  superfine  passion 
To  cut  me,  and  bring  the  old  king  into  fashion." 

Certainly  Brummell  made  no  effort  to  avoid 
283 


IN  THE  DAYS   OF  THE   GEORGES 

the  Prince  in  public,  and  London  for  years  was 
enlivened  by  a  series  of  rencontres  between  the 
pair.  In  most  of  these  Brummell  exhibited  an 
insolence  which  is  perfectly  amazing.  In  the 
most  famous  of  them  he  was  walking  down  St. 
James's  Street  with  Lord  Alvanley,  when  he  met 
the  Prince  attended  by  Lord  Moira.  His  Royal 
Highness  stopped  to  speak  to  Lord  Alvanley 
without  taking  the  slightest  notice  of  the  Beau, 
and  was  turning  to  pass  on,  when  Brummell  said, 
in  a  perfectly  distinct  and  nonchalant  tone, 
"  Alvanley,  who's  your  fat  friend  ?  "  In  a  crowd 
coming  out  of  the  opera,  Brummell  was  unwit- 
tingly driven  almost  against  the  Regent,  who,  of 
course,  could  not  give  way.  To  call  his  attention, 
some  one  tapped  the  Beau  on  the  shoulder.  He 
turned,  found  the  Prince's  nose  within  a  foot  of 
his  own,  stared  him  full  in  the  face,  and  coolly 
turned  away  without  a  bow  or  the  slightest  change 
of  countenance.  But  perhaps  BrummeH's  most 
impudent  exhibition  towards  his  former  patron 
took  place  on  the  steps  of  a  picture  gallery  in 
Pall  Mall.  The  Prince  was  expected  at  the 
exhibition,  and  sentries  had  been  placed  at  the 
doors.  Brummell  timed  his  own  visit  exactly  with 
that  of  his  Royal  Highness,  walked  up  the  steps 
immediately  in  front  of  him,  and  acknowledged 
the  salute  of  the  sentries  as  if  for  himself. 

It  was  said  that,  after  a  time,  the  Prince  was 
prepared  to  let  by-gones  be  by-gones;  the  thing 

284 


THE   INCOMPARABLE   BRUMMELL 

seems  improbable,  but,  as  the  rumour  sprang  from 
a  remark  of  the  Regent  himself,  it  must  be 
recorded  and  accepted  in  all  good  faith.  There 
was  a  prodigious  crowd  of  people  at  the  Argyll 
Rooms  upon  the  occasion  of  what  was  known  as 
the  Dandy  Ball,  an  entertainment  given  by  a 
section  of  that  fraternity  to  celebrate  the  good  for- 
tune of  some  of  them  at  the  hazard-table.  People 
went  early  to  this  festivity  because  it  was  known 
that  the  Regent  would  be  present,  and,  in  some 
sense,  as  a  guest  of  the  Beau.  Brummell  was 
one  of  the  four  stewards  in  whose  names  the  invi- 
tations had  been  issued,  his  comrades  being  Sir  H. 
Mildmay,  Mr.  Pierrepont  and  Lord  Alvanley. 
Sir  H.  Mildmay  was  also  out  of  favour  at  Carlton 
House,  and  there  had  been  much  discussion 
among  the  Dandies  as  to  whether  or  not  the  Prince 
should  be  approached  and  asked  to  honour  the 
ball  with  his  presence.  Brummell  was  opposed 
to  that  course,  but  gave  way  to  the  wishes  of  his 
companions,  and  Mr.  Pierrepont  was  deputed  to 
sound  the  royal  potentate.  The  Prince  expressed 
his  wish  to  be  present,  and,  considering  the  terms 
upon  which  he  was  with  two  of  his  hosts,  his  action 
may,  perhaps,  be  considered  as  an  overture  of 
peace.  In  any  case,  society  was  vastly  interested 
to  witness  the  meeting.  When  the  Regent  ap- 
peared and  was  received  by  the  stewards,  he  made 
one  of  his  stately  bows  to  Lord  Alvanley  and  Mr. 
Pierrepont,  and  shook  each  cordially  by  the  hand. 

285 


IN    THE   DAYS   OF  THE   GEORGES 

But  of  Brummell  and  Sir  H.  Mildmay  he  took  no 
notice  whatever,  nor  would  he  even  appear  to 
know  they  were  present.  Brummell,  perhaps 
naturally,  resented  this  public  slight,  and  when  the 
Regent  retired  would  not  attend  him  to  his  car- 
riage. This  the  Prince  did  not  fail  to  note,  and, 
speaking  of  the  circumstances  next  day,  he  said, 
"  Had  Brummell  taken  the  cut  I  gave  him  good- 
naturedly,  I  would  have  renewed  my  intimacy 
with  him."  This,  however,  he  never  did. 

There  was  one  more  meeting,  in  circumstances 
which  would  be  incredible  were  they  not  authen- 
ticated beyond  doubt  by  a  witness  of  absolute 
reliability  who  was  present,  the  well-known  soldier 
General  Sir  Arthur  Upton.  It  must  be  confessed 
that  in  this  long  strife  of  rancour  and  insult  the 
Prince  at  last  got  even  with  his  mutinous  favourite, 
but  surely  at  a  grievous  cost  to  his  reputation  as  a 
man  of  feeling.  Brummell,  who  had  taken  to 
gaming  after  the  quarrel,  had  met  with  extraordi- 
nary luck,  and  the  town  was  ringing  with  the 
account  of  his  leaving  White's  a  winner  of  £20,000 
at  a  single  sitting.  The  Duke  of  York  reported 
the  fact  to  the  Prince,  who  immediately  resolved 
to  have  his  revenge  upon  the  Beau  for  a  score  of 
passages  of  arms  in  which  the  last  may  be  said 
to  have  had  the  best  of  it.  Brummell  accordingly 
was  again  bidden  to  Carlton  House,  and,  being 
very  elated  at  his  good  fortune,  and  expecting  it 
to  be  the  occasion  of  congratulations  and  recon- 

286 


THE   INCOMPARABLE   BRUMMELL 

ciliation,  fell  readily  into  the  trap.  He  was  re- 
ceived with  all  apparent  kindness  by  the  Prince, 
and  the  dinner  promised  to  pass  off  prosperously 
enough.  The  Beau  was  delighted  at  his  recep- 
tion, and,  it  is  said,  drank  a  little  more  wine  than 
was  customary  with  him,  and  was  hilarious  a  little 
beyond  his  wont.  The  Prince  suddenly  turned 
to  his  brother,  the  Duke  of  York,  and  remarked, 
"  I  think  we  had  better  order  Mr.  Brummell's 
carriage  before  he  gets  drunk,"  and  the  poor  Beau 
at  last  left  his  master's  presence  for  ever. 

Brummell  none  the  less  contrived  to  maintain 
his  position  in  the  world  of  fashion,  and  it  was  not 
the  withdrawal  of  the  Prince  of  Wales's  favour 
which  led  directly  to  his  ruin,  though,  no  doubt, 
that  had  its  share  in  the  disaster.  But  there  were 
many  years  of  apparent  prosperity  in  store  for  the 
Beau,  years  in  which  he  reigned  by  himself  in 
lonely  splendour.  The  lighter  records  of  those 
twelve  years  which  ended  at  Waterloo  are  full  of 
the  figure  of  Brummell,  of  his  elegance,  his  auto- 
cratic rule,  his  insolence.  The  fashionable  clubs, 
the  great  functions  at  the  Opera  House,  those 
awful  and  solemn  rites  at  Almack's,  for  participa- 
tion in  which  people  of  acknowledged  position 
struggled  and  intrigued,  often  unsuccessfully,  for 
years,  all  are  pervaded  by  this  personality  of  the 
Treasury  clerk's  son.  People  at  the  opera  first 
looked  about  the  house  to  discover  that  peerless 
figure.  "  How  well  got  up  is  Brummell  to-night !  " 

287 


IN  THE   DAYS   OF   THE   GEORGES 

was  the  conventional  remark  proper  to  the  occa- 
sion when  the  paragon  was  seen  in  his  glory  in 
Fop's  Alley.  At  Almack's  duchesses  would  point 
him  out  to  their  daughters  during  their  first  season 
as  the  great  Mr.  Brummell,  whose  approbation  it 
was  important  to  obtain  by  care  in  conversation, 
if  they  were  so  lucky  as  to  have  the  honour  of 
dancing  with  him.  He  abated  none  of  his  preten- 
sions after  his  quarrel  with  the  Prince,  and  re- 
ceived the  same  homage  as  before.  The  beau- 
teous leaders  of  the  feminine  society  of  that  day, 
whose  charm  is  preserved  for  us  in  so  many  of  the 
canvases  of  Lawrence,  were  still  devoted  to  him, 
and  another  of  those  trivial  incidents,  of  which, 
indeed,  the  Beau's  life  and  history  are  composed, 
is  related  of  his  meeting  with  one  of  them  at  this 
time.  He  rode  up  to  the  carriage  of  a  lady  of  his 
acquaintance  in  the  Park  in  order  to  present  her 
with  a  stick  of  perfume,  a  concoction  of  his  own, 
but  on  condition  only  that  she  should  give  none  of 
it  to  the  Regent,  who,  he  said,  was  "  dying  to  get 
hold  of  it." 

In  one  way  Brummell  was  more  fortunate  than 
he  deserved.  Notwithstanding  his  rupture  with 
the  Prince,  the  Beau  never  lost  the  friendship  of 
the  Duke  of  York,  who,  indeed,  was  never  known 
to  desert  a  friend,  and  he  was  a  favourite,  also, 
with  the  Duchess,  that  gentle  Princess  Royal  of 
Prussia,  who  was  beloved  by  everybody,  of  what- 
ever station,  who  ever  had  the  privilege  of  meeting 

288 


His  ROYAL  HIGHNESS  GEORGE  PHINCE  OF 


Primai-ius  Fictor  >Sereiiilsinu  \Vtlliar  IHiicipn  dclin-el  Excu' 


THE   INCOMPARABLE   BRUMMELL 

her.  It  was  said  that  the  Duchess  was  grateful 
to  Brummell  for  the  improvement  he  wrought  in  the 
manners  of  the  men's  society  which  she  found  in 
England  when  she  came  over  as  a  young  bride  in 
1791,  the  drinking,  roystering  set  of  roues  with 
which  even  royalty  was  surrounded  in  those  days, 
who  gloried  in  their  excesses,  and  whose  want  of 
courtesy  and  of  refinement  in  the  presence  of 
ladies  filled  the  young  Princess  with  horror. 

At  Oaklands,  accordingly,  the  Duchess  of  York 
held  her  little  court,  the  only  court,  indeed,  of 
those  barren  years,  when  the  poor  afflicted  King 
George  the  Third  was  a  recluse  at  Windsor,  and 
the  irregular  proceedings  at  Carlton  House  were 
impossible  to  any  but  a  particular  few.  Oaklands 
was  described  by  those  who  took  part  in  its  hos- 
pitalities as  the  last  retreat  of  correct  manners  and 
high  breeding,  where  "affability  on  the  one  side 
and  respectful  attention  on  the  other  were  equally 
remarkable."  Let  it  be  counted  for  righteousness 
to  the  Beau,  of  whom  so  much  folly  is  recorded, 
that  he  was  an  honoured  guest  in  that  society,  and 
a  favourite  of  the  royal  lady  who  presided  over 
it.  He  it  was  who  was  the  central  figure  of  the 
parties  whose  chaises  assembled  at  five  o'clock  at 
White's  on  Saturday  afternoons,  Lord  Alvanley, 
Lord  Hertford,  Lord  Worcester,  Lord  Foley,  Sir 
H.  Cooke,  General  Upton,  and  the  rest,  often  in 
such  numbers  that  post-horses  ran  short  on  the 
road  to  Oaklands. 

T  289 


There  was,  however,  another  side  to  BrummeH's 
deportment  at  this  time  of  his  career;  he  was  civil 
enough,  no  doubt,  to  the  company  he  met  at  Oak- 
lands,  at  the  fashionable  clubs,  and  elsewhere ;  but 
his  insolence  to  people  of  less  consideration  was 
a  by-word,  and  most  of  the  stories  in  which  it  is 
preserved  centre  upon  this  period.  No  doubt  the 
Beau  was  a  privileged  jester  with  his  tongue  con- 
tinually in  his  cheek,  and  atrocious  rudeness  was 
accepted  from  him  which  would  assuredly  have 
led  to  personal  chastisement  in  another.  It  is  not 
necessary  to  accept  all  these  stories  literally;  no 
doubt,  as  in  the  case  of  other  exquisites,  from 
Chesterfield  onwards,  any  particularly  impudent 
sally  was  fathered  upon  him,  just  as  those  of  a 
humorous  and  kindly  nature  were  attributed  to 
Lord  Alvanley.  But  many  of  them  are  authenti- 
cated, and,  taken  together,  they  undoubtedly 
present  a  true  picture  of  his  bearing  towards  all 
but  a  few  score  people  of  position  to  whom  it  was 
his  interest  to  be  civil.  It  is  really  a  matter  of 
wonder  that  the  Beau  went  through  life  with  a 
whole  skin.  Long  before  their  final  rupture,  the 
Regent  had  been  seriously  angered  by  BrummeH's 
behaviour  to  the  Bishop  of  Winchester,  whom  he 
had  met  at  the  Pavilion  at  Brighton.  The  Beau 
had  helped  himself  to  a  pinch  of  snuff,  and  had 
laid  his  box  on  the  table.  The  bishop  took  a 
pinch  unasked,  when  Brummell  called  a  servant 
and  ordered  him  to  empty  the  box  into  the  fire. 

290 


THE   INCOMPARABLE   BRUMMELL 

At  the  table  of  a  country  gentleman  in  Hampshire, 
in  whose  house  he  was  dining,  he  volunteered  his 
opinion  of  his  host's  champagne  by  calling  to  the 
servant,  "John,  bring  me  some  more  of  that 
cider."  He  insulted  a  better  man  than  himself  at 
Brooks's,  Alderman  Whitbread,  the  brewer,  where, 
however,  he  met  his  match.  The  Beau  strolled 
into  the  club  and  found  a  game  of  hazard  going 
on,  and  when  the  box  came  to  his  turn  he  said  to 
Mr.  Whitbread,  "Hallo,  Mashtub,  what's  the 
stake  ?  "  "  Twenty-five  pounds,"  replied  that 
gentleman.  "  Have  at  the  mayor's  pony,"  said 
Brummell,  "  and  seven's  the  main."  He  won  the 
cast,  repeated  his  success  twice,  and  so  won  £75. 
As  he  pocketed  the  money,  he  thanked  Mr.  Whit- 
bread, and  assured  him  that  in  future  he  would 
drink  no  one's  porter  but  his.  "  I  wish  every  other 
blackguard  in  London  would  tell  rne  the  same," 
was  the  alderman's  reply.  "Who's  that  ugly 
fellow  by  the  fire-place?  "  he  once  asked  of  some 
one  at  a  great  ball  given  by  one  of  the  law  lords 
at  his  house  in  Russell  Square.  "  Surely  you  must 
know,"  said  the  fellow-guest,  "  it  is  the  master  of 
the  house."  "How  should  I  know?"  replied 
Brummell;  "  I  was  not  invited."  Some  gentleman 
offered  him  a  lift  in  his  carriage  to  Lady  Jersey's 
ball.  ;'  Thank  you  exceedingly,"  said  Brummell ; 
"but  how  are  you  to  go?  I  could  hardly  expect 
you  to  get  up  behind  with  the  footman — no,  that 
would  not  be  proper ;  but,  on  the  other  hand,  you 
T  2  291 


IN   THE   DAYS   OF  THE   GEORGES 

would  hardly  expect  to  sit  by  me  ? "  Another 
gentleman  asked  him  to  dine  with  him.  "  With  all 
my  heart,  my  good  fellow;  but  swear  that  you 
won't  breathe  a  word  of  it  to  anybody."  To  a 
lady  at  Ascot,  who  was  obviously  pleased  at  his 
speaking  to  her,  he  said,  "  Nobody  sees  us,  so  I'm 
not  risking  my  reputation." 

Such  are  the  stories  which  tradition  tells  of 
Brummell,  and  which  assuredly  do  not  show  that 
amiability  and  continuing  goodness  of  heart  which 
men  like  Raikes,  who  saw  only  the  smooth  side  of 
his  character,  have  recorded  of  him.  There  are 
others  which  are  at  once  more  humorous,  and  plea- 
santer  to  read.  Some  father  once  complained  to 
him  that  he  had  led  his  son  astray.  "  Indeed,  I 
did  all  I  could  for  the  young  fellow,"  replied  the 
Beau,  "  I  once  gave  him  my  arm  all  the  way  from 
White's  to  Wattier's."  An  acquaintance  asked 
him  for  the  repayment  of  a  loan  of  ,£500.  "  I 
paid  you,"  said  the  Beau.  "  Paid  me !  when, 
pray?"  :'When  I  nodded  to  you  from  the  bow 
window  at  White's  and  said,  '  How  d'ye  do, 
Jemmy  ? '  One  other  story  of  Brummell  as 
jester  must  complete  the  list.  A  certain  Colonel 
Kelly,  who  was  in  command  of  the  troops  at  the 
Tower,  was  famous  for  the  matchless  lustre  of  his 
blacking.  A  fire  occurred  at  his  quarters,  and  the 
poor  colonel  himself  perished  in  an  attempt  to 
rescue  his  boots  from  the  flames.  As  soon  as  the 
sad  news  reached  the  West  End,  there  was  a  rush 

292 


among  the  Dandies  to  secure  the  colonel's  valet. 
The  Beau  was  first,  and  asked  terms.  "The 
colonel  gave  me  £150  a  year,"  said  the  man,  "  but 
I  should  want  £200  from  you."  "Make  it 
guineas,"  replied  the  Beau,  "  and  I'll  wait  on  you 
myself." 

Brummell's  career  was  in  one  way  remarkable, 
there  is  no  record  of  any  entanglement  with  a 
woman;  and  though,  as  already  stated,  he  was 
popular  among  ladies  of  the  highest  rank,  and  at 
his  prime  might  probably  have  found  a  wife  of 
birth  and  fortune,  he  never  appears  to  have 
thought  seriously  of  marriage.  There  was  a  story 
that  he  once  attempted  to  elope  with  a  young 
lady  in  May  fair,  but  that  the  pair  were  overtaken, 
and  the  damsel  conducted  back  to  her  parents, 
before  they  had  got  through  Grosvenor  Square, 
but  no  one  believed  it.  It  was  said,  too,  that  near 
the  end  of  his  career,  at  a  moment  when  he  was 
temporarily  in  possession  of  funds  by  a  lucky 
stroke  at  the  gaming-table,  he  had  thoughts  of 
settling,  and  made  advances  to  a  lady  possessed 
of  a  large  fortune.  But  his  love-making  came  to 
nothing,  and  being  questioned  by  a  friend  on  the 
subject,  he  replied,  "  Impossible,  my  dear  fellow; 
would  you  believe  it,  I  discovered  that  the  wretch 
positively  ate  cabbage  ? "  Few  of  Brummell's 
set  married,  or,  if  they  did,  set  any  great  store  on 
the  domestic  side  of  matrimony.  The  Dandies, 
as  a  class,  were  too  selfish  to  rear  and  educate 

293 


IN  THE   DAYS   OF   THE   GEORGES 

children.  So  Brummell  went  through  life,  so  far 
as  is  known,  without  a  love  affair  of  any  kind. 
People  said  that  he  good-naturedly  proposed  to 
several  young  ladies,  knowing  he  would  be  re- 
fused, and  merely  to  give  them  a  certain  reputa- 
tion in  having  rejected  so  eminent  a  lover.  He 
himself  was  quite  candid  as  to  the  nature  of  his 
affairs  of  the  heart.  "  My  love  letters,"  he  would 
say,  "are  written  on  scented  paper,  and  tear- 
stained  with  a  sponge  dipped  in  rosewater." 

Brummeirs  fall  came  at  last,  mainly  as  the 
result  of  his  reckless  extravagance,  and  of  his 
losses  at  play  in  the  effort  to  find  means  to  support 
it.  There  is  no  evidence  that  his  social  influence 
had  suffered  any  serious  decline,  though  his  first 
youth  was,  of  course,  over,  and  his  pretensions 
had  lost  the  charm  of  novelty.  He  had  been 
upon  the  town  for  nearly  twenty  years,  and  the 
small  world  in  which  he  lived  was  difficult  to  keep 
interested  in  any  subject  or  any  person  over  such 
a  period.  A  new  generation  arises  in  twenty  years, 
and,  as  a  fact,  the  generation  which  was  coming 
to  its  own  in  1816  had  other  ideals  than  the  proper 
set  of  a  coat-collar  or  the  tying  of  a  cravat.  None 
the  less,  had  the  Beau  possessed  the  slightest 
sense  of  moderation  in  his  style  of  living,  he  might 
have  wagged  his  head  and  laid  down  the  law  in 
White's  bow  window  for  another  quarter  of  a 
century,  as  did  a  few  of  his  companions  upon 
whom  his  mantle  descended.  But  his  mode  of 

294 


THE   INCOMPARABLE   BRUMMELL 

life  had  exhausted  his  small  patrimony  quite  early 
in  his  career,  and  his  participation  in  the  prevailing 
vice  of  the  day  sealed  his  doom. 

It  was  well  known  that  Brummell  abstained 
altogether  from  the  gaming  tables  so  long  as  he 
was  on  intimate  terms  with  the  Regent.  His 
attendance  upon  that  personage  and  his  many 
social  engagements  left  little  time  at  his  disposal, 
and  he  was  not  often  seen  at  the  clubs  before  the 
year  1804.  He  had  been  elected,  however,  at 
White's  in  1798,  and  at  Brooks's  in  the  following 
year,  but  his  disastrous  experience  at  both  those 
clubs  and  at  Wattier's  began  later.  It  is  notori- 
ous that  gaming  at  White's  had  been  the  terror 
of  nearly  every  great  family  who  had  a  husband 
or  son  open  to  its  temptations  since  the  days  of 
Queen  Anne.  The  rage  for  play  at  that  famous 
society  had  moderated  a  little  upon  the  accession 
of  George  the  Third;  White's  was  the  rallying- 
place  of  the  court  party  at  that  time,  and  the  young 
King  frowned  upon  the  excesses  of  the  hazard 
table.  But  those  excesses  were  more  than  sur- 
passed by  the  doings  of  a  set  of  young  men  at 
Brooks's,  a  club  established  by  the  malcontents  at 
White's  for  the  very  purpose  of  continuing  the 
orgies  which  had  been  interrupted  by  the  new 
school  of  virtue  established  at  the  older  club. 
The  sums  which  passed  across  the  faro  tables  at 
Brooks's  during  the  next  twenty  years  could  only 
be  counted  literally  in  millions.  There  was  no 

295 


IN  THE   DAYS   OF   THE   GEORGES 

secret  about  it  at  all ;  young  men  like  the  Thanets, 
the  Foleys  and  Carlisles  of  that  day,  starting  life 
with  fine  landed  estates  and  large  fortunes  of 
ready  money,  were  poor  and  embarrassed  men 
within  that  period.  Hazard  was  still  played  at 
Brooks's,  but  the  chief  game  at  both  clubs  at  the 
opening  of  the  nineteenth  century  was  whist  for 
enormous  stakes,  played  by  men  who  devoted  their 
lives  to  that  game,  and  were  patterns  of  modera- 
tion in  all  else,  in  order  that  their  minds  might 
be  clear  for  the  evening's  contest,  and  who  con- 
sequently often  made  large  fortunes  either  by 
playing  themselves,  or  by  heavy  betting  on  the 
play  of  the  best  exponents  of  the  game.  Wattier's 
was  a  club  founded  by  the  Prince's  maitre  d' 'hotel 
of  that  name,  where  was  played  macao,  a  variation 
of  vingt  et  un.  It  was  known  as  the  Dandies' 
Club,  of  which  set  of  exquisites,  with  the  Beau  at 
their  head,  it  became  the  favourite  resort.  There 
could  be  no  worse  school  than  White's  and 
Brooks's  for  such  a  man  as  Brummell,  who  was 
by  temperament  and  training  utterly  incompetent 
to  maintain  an  equal  contest  with  the  men  who 
played  such  a  game  as  whist  at  both  clubs. 

Raikes  records  walking  home  with  him  in  the 
dawn  of  a  summer  morning  after  a  disastrous 
experience  at  the  game;  he  confessed  that  "an 
unfortunate  ^10,000"  which  he  had  left  un- 
touched at  his  bankers  had  all  gone  at  the  fatal 
green  table,  "  and  his  depression  was  very  great," 

296 


THE   INCOMPARABLE   BRUMMELL 

as  well  it  might  be.  As  they  were  passing  through 
Berkeley  Square,  and  Brummell  "was  bitterly 
lamenting  his  fortune,  he  suddenly  stopped  on 
seeing  something  glistening  in  the  kennel,  stooped 
down,  and  picked  up  a  crooked  sixpence.  His 
countenance  immediately  brightened.  '  This/  he 
said,  '  is  the  harbinger  of  good  luck/  He  took 
it  home,  and  before  he  went  to  bed,  drilled  a  hole 
in  it,  and  fitted  it  to  his  watch-chain." 

For  a  time  it  appeared  as  though  the  Beau's 
superstition  were  justified,  for  he  had  extraordinary 
luck  at  the  clubs,  and  if  he  had  exercised  the  most 
moderate  self-control,  might  have  lived  comfort- 
ably on  the  winnings  of  a  couple  of  years.  A 
story  or  two  of  his  gaming  at  the  clubs  survives. 
He  dropped  in  at  Wattier's,  where  he  found  a 
table  full,  with  Tom  Sheridan  dealing  at  macao, 
and  proposed  to  that  gentleman  to  take  his  place, 
and  halve  the  profits  or  losses  of  the  deal.  Upon 
Sheridan  consenting,  Brummell  added  £200  to 
the  £10  which  composed  poor  Sheridan's  bank, 
dealt  with  great  success  for  ten  minutes,  and  in 
that  short  time  won  '^1500.  As  he  handed  ,£750 
to  his  partner,  he  said,  "  There,  Tom,  go  home 
and  give  your  wife  and  brats  a  supper,  and  never 
play  again."  On  another  occasion,  after  losing 
a  large  sum  at  Wattier's  he  called  with  a  melo- 
dramatic air  to  a  waiter  to  bring  him  a  candle 
and  a  pistol.  A  man  sitting  next  to  him  imme- 
diately produced  the  pistol  and  offered  it  to  him, 

297 


IN   THE   DAYS   OF   THE   GEORGES 

when  he  and  the  rest  of  the  company  realized  that 
they  had  been  playing  with  a  desperate  madman. 
For  his  own  sake,  it  was  a  pity  Brummell  could 
not  take  his  own  advice  to  Sheridan,  for  he  had 
an  extraordinary  run  of  good  fortune.  He  sat 
down  one  evening  at  White's  and  at  a  single  sit- 
ting won  ,£20,000  at  whist  from  his  friend  George 
Harley  Drummond,  a  member  of  the  great  bank- 
ing house.  It  was  the  first  time  Mr.  Drummond 
had  played  for  high  stakes,  and  the  loss  led  to 
his  withdrawal  from  the  firm.  At  a  later  period 
Brummell  was  known  to  be  £36,000  to  the  good, 
and  his  friends  all  implored  him  to  buy  an  annuity 
and  so  place  himself  beyond  the  reach  of  poverty. 
He  would  not  listen  to  them,  and  in  a  few  weeks 
was  without  a  penny.  His  friends  tried  to  keep 
him  within  bounds  by  a  method  well  known  among 
gamblers  as  the  "tie  up."  Mr.  Pemberton  Mills 
gave  him  £10  at  White's  on  condition  of  receiving 
£1000  from  Brummell  if  the  latter  were  found  at 
the  gaming  table  within  a  month;  that  is,  Brum- 
mell bet  him  TOO  to  i  that  he  would  not  play 
within  that  period.  A  week  later  Mills  again 
came  to  the  club,  and  found  him  still  playing  aftej 
four  nights  of  continuous  loss.  "Well,  Brum- 
mell," he  said,  "you  may  at  least  give  me  back 
the  £10  you  had  the  other  night."  The  Beau,  in 
fact,  was  no  match  for  the  expert  players  he  met 
at  White's,  and  his  ruin  was  certain.  He  attri- 
buted all  his  misfortunes  to  the  loss  of  his  lucky 

298 


THE   INCOMPARABLE   BRUMMELL 

JF 

sixpence,  which  he  said  he  gave  away  by  mistake 
to  a  hackney  coachman,  and  now  supposed  "  that 
rascal  Rothschild  had  got  hold  of  it."  He  was, 
indeed,  so  convinced  of  the  value  of  that  treasure, 
that  he  went  to  the  length  of  advertising  for  it. 
More  than  a  score  of  people  called  in  answer, 
each  with  a  sixpence  with  a  hole  in  it,  but  the 
Beau  was  unable  .to  recognize  his  talisman  among 
them. 

Brummell,  at  the  end  of  these  reverses,  was 
almost  in  a  state  of  indigence,  though  for  a  time 
he  managed  to  conceal  the  fact  from  general 
knowledge.  His  establishment  in  Chesterfield 
Street  had  been  exchanged  for  a  smaller  one  in 
Chapel  Street;  there  were  no  more  little  dinners, 
and  when  the  Beau  lacked  invitations,  he  dined 
alone  at  Brooks's.  But  he  still  appeared  as  usual 
in  his  old  splendour,  and,  like  others  in  his  situa- 
tion, he  contrived  to  live  upon  such  credit  as  re- 
mained to  him,  and  by  the  fearsome  aid  of  the 
money  lenders.  Of  these,  a  firm  of  that  time, 
Howard  and  Gibbs,  were  the  ravens  who  fed 
him  during  those  last  lean  years.  Later  came 
gifts  and  loans  from  a  host  of  generous  friends; 
later  still  sums  raised  upon  accommodation  bills 
bearing  the  joint  signatures  of  himself  and  certain 
of  his  acquaintance.  It  is  the  old  weary  story  of 
the  spendthrift  in  distress,  money  raised  at  ruinous 
interest  upon  personal  security,  and  a  final  'dispute 
between  the  recipients  of  the  meagre  spoil  result- 

299 


IN   THE   DAYS   OF  THE   GEORGES 

ing  from  such  transactions  as  to  the  responsibility, 
when  the  inexorable  presentation  became  due. 

Among  these  acquaintances  of  the  Beau  was  a 
gentleman  whose  name  has  survived  only  in  an 

initial,  a  Mr.  M ,  who  was  entirely  dissatisfied 

with  Brummeirs  behaviour  in  the  transactions 
they  had  undertaken  together,  took  umbrage,  and 
resolved,  as  was  said  at  the  time,  to  have  his 
pound  of  flesh.  This  meant  nothing  more  nor 
less  than  the  incarceration  of  the  Beau's  sacred 
person  in  a  debtor's  gaol,  for  there  was  no  other 
asset  to  seize,  except  a  small  collection  of  furni- 
ture at  Chapel  Street.  Mr.  M ,  however,  in 

his  dudgeon  was  resolved  upon  that  impious 
course,  and  Brummell  was  aware  of  his  determina- 
tion; possibly  one  or  two  others,  though  certainly 
not  many.  Among  these,  however,  was  perhaps 
Scrope  Davies,  that  strange  figure  of  the  Regency, 
gambler,  scholar,  poet,  man  of  fashion.  It  was 
Scrope  Davies  who  discovered  Byron  with  his  locks 
in  curl-papers,  and  was  sworn  to  secrecy;  which  is, 
perhaps,  a  reason  for  our  possession  of  that  inter- 
esting scrap  of  knowledge;  it  was  Scrope,  too, 
who  cut  his  throat  so  regularly  and  so  ineffectually 
after  each  Newmarket  meeting  that  the  surgeon 
refused  to  hurry  when  he  heard  it  "  was  only  Mr. 
Davies."  On  the  very  last  day  of  the  Beau's 
sojourn  in  London,  when  he  was  obviously  look- 
ing out  for  travelling  expenses,  he  wrote  to  Davies 
a  famous  letter.  "  My  dear  Scrope, — Lend  me 

300 


THE   INCOMPARABLE   BRUMMELL 

£500  for  a  few  days :  the  funds  are  shut  for  the 
dividends,  or  I  would  not  have  made  the  request. 
— G.  Brummell."  The  letter  was  delivered  to 
Davies  as  he  was  driving  with  Byron  in  Charles 
Street,  and  the  reply  is  even  more  famous.  "  My 
dear  Brummell, — All  my  money  is  locked  up  in 
the  funds. — Scrope  Davies." 

Mr.  M Js  writ,  in  fact,  was  out;   Brummell 

knew  it,  and  had  at  last  resolved  to  quit  the  scene 
of  his  long  triumph  and  seek  the  shelter  of  a 
foreign  shore  in  order  to  escape  the  clutches  of 

the  outraged  M ,  who  thenceforward  became 

known  as  the  Dandy  Killer.  The  extreme 
urgency  of  BrummeH's  affairs,  however,  was  still 
unknown,  and  Raikes,  who  had  so  often  shared 
his  confidence,  was  surprised  when  he  heard  of 
his  intended  flight  on  its  very  eve.  "  I  never  was 
more  astonished  in  my  life,"  wrote  that  gentle- 
man, "than  when  in  1816  he  confided  to  me  that 
his  situation  had  become  so  desperate  that  he 
must  fly  the  country  that  night  and  by  stealth." 
The  Beau  appeared  that  evening  at  the  opera  as 
usual,  but  left  early,  and  did  not  return  home.  He 
drove  in  a  chaise  lent  by  a  friend  to  his  own, 
which  was  waiting  for  him  a  few  miles  on  the 
Dover  Road  with  four  post-horses,  chartered  a 
small  vessel  at  that  port;  thoughtfully  placed  his 
carriage  on  board,  and  was  at  Calais  soon  after 
daybreak.  On  the  morning  of  the  i;th  of  May 
1816,  accordingly,  London  woke  to  find  itself 

301 


IN  THE   DAYS    OF   THE    GEORGES 

bereft  of  its  paragon.  If  there  had  been  any  pos- 
sible consolation  in  his  presence,  which  was  hardly 
the  case  in  his  shorn  condition,  London  might 
have  had  reason  to  deplore  his  loss,  for  his  ac- 
quaintance and  his  tradesmen  were  ^60,000  to  the 
bad.  Many  of  the  sufferers  were  among  his  per- 
sonal friends  whose  bounty  had  kept  him  going 
during  the  past  two  years;  the  newspapers  were 
full  of  lists  of  these  gentlemen,  with  their  names 
hardly  veiled  by  blanks  and  asterisks.  There 
was,  of  course,  an  official  raid  on  his  house  in 
Chapel  Street,  and  "the  furniture,  wine,  books, 
plate  and  general  effects  of  a  gentleman  of  fashion 
lately  gone  abroad"  were  sold  on  the  spot  for 
;£ii,ooo.  Among  these  was  a  choice  snuffbox 
containing  a  slip  of  paper  bearing  the  Beau's 
handwriting  to  the  following  effect :  "  This  was 
intended  for  the  Prince  Regent  if  he  had  behaved 
with  more  propriety  towards  me." 

It  was  pointed  out  by  a  writer  somewhat  lacking 
in  the  senses  of  proportion  and  humour,  that 
Napoleon  Bonaparte  and  Beau  Brummell  both 
ended  their  careers  at  much  the  same  time;  it  is 
certain  that  in  the  case  of  both  those  great  men  a 
period  of  glory  was  followed  by  one  of  decline 
which  their  biographers  would  fain  leave  out  of 
their  records.  Bonaparte  might  surely  have  found 
a  happier  end  than  he  did  had  a  round  shot  struck 
him  on  the  field  of  Waterloo,  and  had  the  Fates 
snatched  Brummell  from  the  scenes  of  his  success 

302 


THE   INCOMPARABLE    BRUMMELL 

a  few  years  before  he  outran  the  constable,  his 
memory  might  have  preserved  some  show  of  inter- 
est, if  only  as  that  of  a  social  curiosity.  But  he 
displayed  no  particular  qualities  of  steadfastness 
or  manliness  during  his  prosperity,  and  he  was 
now  to  bear  the  supreme  test  of  adversity  still 
worse.  Brummell,  in  fact,  ran  over  to  France, 
and  for  the  space  of  twenty-four  years  set  himself 
deliberately  to  live  upon  the  charity  of  his  friends. 
This  charity  was  copious  enough  to  have  main- 
tained him  in  comfort,  and  even  luxury,  had  he 
had  the  common  decency  to  adopt  his  style  of 
living  to  his  altered  circumstances.  The  greater 
number  of  his  acquaintance  in  London,  includ- 
ing many  whose  goodness  he  had  already  abused, 
came  forward  with  the  greatest  liberality.  He 
received  the  anonymous  gift  of  £1000  almost  at 
the  moment  of  his  arrival  at  Calais ;  a  Mr.  Cham- 
berlayne  made  him  a  yearly  allowance,  the  Duke 
of  Argyll,  Lord  Alvanley,  Lord  Sefton,  Lord 
Worcester,  and  many  others  were  unwearying  in 
their  benefactions.  The  Duchess  of  York  period- 
ically sent  to  him  little  purses  worked  by  her  own 
hand,  which  were  always  well  filled.  With  the 
final  peace  which  followed  Waterloo,  Calais  was 
crowded  with  English  gentry  travelling  on  the 
continent,  the  best  known  of  whom  made  a  point 
of  calling  on  the  Beau,  to  spare  whose  purse  many 
of  them  ordered  the  dinner  from  Dessein's  and 
paid  for  it;  others  left  substantial  proofs  of  their 

303 


IN   THE   DAYS   OF   THE   GEORGES 

kindness  behind  them.  As  Lord  Stuart  de  Rothe- 
say,  the  English  Ambassador,  said,  Brummell  was 
the  most  happily  situated  man  in  Europe,  living 
as  he  did  on  the  road  from  London  to  Paris,  with 
the  news  from  both  capitals  brought  daily  to  his 
door.  There  was  a  procession,  indeed,  of  the 
best  of  English  society  to  his  modest  suite  of  three 
rooms  at  honest  Leleux's,  the  printer,  who  lived 
at  the  old  Hotel  dAngleterre,  and  found  a  roof 
for  the  Beau  for  just  sixteen  years.  Here,  with 
no  hospitality  to  dispense,  he  might  have  lived  in 
comfort  on  a  tithe  of  the  levy  he  made  on  his  old 
friends  had  he  been  endowed  with  a  spark  of 
right  feeling  or  self-respect. 

BrummeH's  return  for  all  that  warm-hearted 
kindness  revealed  no  trace  of  those  qualities.  His 
first  step  on  settling  at  Leleux's  was  to  spend 
£1000  on  furniture  for  his  three  rooms.  Nothing 
but  boule  and  suites  of  the  style  Louis  Quartorze, 
with  ornaments  of  old  Sevres,  would  satisfy  the 
taste  of  this  prince  of  mendicants.  If  he  became 
tired  of  any  of  these  expensive  toys,  he  would 
sell  them  for  a  quarter  of  their  value,  and  during 
ten  years  he  kept  a  courier  running  at  frequent 
intervals  between  Calais  and  Paris  on  commis- 
sions for  such  transactions,  who  owned  to  saving 
twelve  hundred  pounds  in  the  business.  In  the 
midst  of  these  elegant  appointments  he  lived  the 
ceremonious  life  of  the  indolent  exquisite;  drank 
his  cafe  au  lait  at  nine  precisely;  read  till  twelve 

304 


THE   INCOMPARABLE  BRUMMELL 

at  which  hour  he  was  seen  to  cross  the  passage 
leading  to  his  bedroom  in  a  flowing  dressing-gown 
of  surpassing  richness  for  his  two  hours'  toilette ; 
so  punctual  was  he,  indeed,  that  M.  Leleux's 
printers  would  say,  "Ah,  voila  M.  Brummell, 
c'est  midi,"  and  would  lay  aside  their  craft  for  the 
midday  meal.  Then  would  follow  the  Beau's 
ridiculous  levee  of  two  hours;  his  promenade  of 
one,  his  dinner  at  five  brought  over  from  Dessein's 
hotel ;  and  at  seven-thirty,  the  play,  where  he  kept 
a  box. 

This,  of  course,  was  all  mighty  well  for  a  man 
of  fortune,  but  for  a  broken  spendthrift  living  on 
charity  it  was  not  only  indecent,  but  was  attended 
by  circumstances  which  made  it  dishonest.  Raikes, 
who  was  exceedingly  tolerant  of  the  Beau's  short- 
comings, makes  that  quite  clear.  Brummell  de- 
liberately misrepresented  the  amount  of  the  re- 
sources with  which  his  friends  provided  him,  and 
wrote  frequent  pitiful  letters  to  England  suggest- 
ing he  was  in  want  at  the  very  time  that  he  was 
rioting  in  the  extravagance  we  have  described. 
"  His  applications  to  his  friends  were  unceasing," 
says  Raikes,  "  and  though  for  a  long  time  liberally 
answered,  at  last  they  were  wearied  by  the  repe- 
tition, particularly  when  no  signs  of  indigence 
could  be  observed  in  his  mode  of  life.  His  kind 
friends  were  constantly  ready  to  assist  him,  but 
when  at  last  he  had  recourse  to  statements  of 
distress  and  imprisonment  which  the  next  post 
u  305 


IN   THE   DAYS   OF   THE   GEORGES 

proved  to  be  unfounded,  their  patience  began  to 
be  exhausted." 

Meanwhile  the  Beau  abated  none  of  his  old 
social  pretensions,  strutted  about  the  town,  gave 
himself  all  the  airs  of  his  prosperity,  and  dis- 
played all  his  old  insolence.  He  dined  once  with 
Mr.  Marshall,  the  British  Consul,  whose  office  he 
himself  coveted,  and,  taking  a  cutlet  on  his  fork, 
threw  it  to  a  pet  dog  in  the  room,  with  the  remark, 
"  Here,  see  if  you  can  get  your  teeth  through  it, 
for  I'm  damned  if  I  can."  He  spoke  of  a  military 
man,  a  French  resident  who  had  been  wounded 
in  the  face,  as  "  a  hatter."  This  gentleman  called 
for  an  explanation.  "  I'm  sorry  any  one  could 
conceive  it  possible  that  I  could  be  guilty  of  such 
a  breach  of  good  manners,"  said  Brummell. 
:'  There  is  not  a  word  of  truth  in  it."  The  French- 
man, quite  satisfied,  rose  to  go.  "  For,"  added 
Brummell,  "  now  I  think  of  it,  I  never  in  my  life 
dealt  with  a  hatter  without  a  nose." 

The  death  of  the  Duchess  of  York  in  1820  was 
a  great  blow  to  Brummell;  the  continued  favour 
of  that  royal  lady,  implying,  as  it  does,  some 
merit  which  it  is  difficult  to  discover  elsewhere,  is 
one  of  the  few  things  to  be  recorded  to  his  credit ; 
and  the  final  severance  of  their  friendship  brought 
an  added  trouble  in  the  cessation  of  the  benefits 
he  had  long  been  accustomed  to  receive.  The 
accession  of  his  former  patron  to  the  throne  in  the 
same  year  seems  to  have  raised  few  hopes  in  the 

306 


Beau's  breast :  "  An  indulgent  amnesty  of  former 
peccadilloes,"  he  wrote  to  Raikes,  "  should  be  the 
primary  grace  influencing  newly  throned  sove- 
reignty. From  my  experience,  however,  of  the 
personage  in  question,  I  must  doubt  any  favour- 
able relaxation  of  those  stubborn  prejudices  which 
have  during  so  many  years  operated  to  the  total 
exclusion  of  one  of  his  eleves  from  the  royal 
notice,  whom  I  need  not  particularize."  Brum- 
mell,  therefore,  was  probably  not  disappointed  at 
the  barren  effect  upon  his  affairs  of  the  visit  which 
King  George  made  to  Calais  when  he  passed 
through  the  town  on  his  way  to  Hanover  in  1821. 
Some  slight  tentative  advances  he  made  seem  to 
suggest  that  there  was  a  lingering  hope  in  his 
mind,  but  he  should  have  known  that  a  complete 
submission  was  the  only  means  of  obtaining  a 
restoration  of  the  royal  favour.  It  was  of  little 
purpose  to  put  down  his  name  at  Dessein's,  where 
his  Majesty  was  lodged,  when  he  failed  to  make 
one  of  the  loyal  party  of  English  residents  who 
welcomed  their  monarch  on  his  landing  at  the 
pier.  •  Brummell,  indeed,  carefully  took  a  walk  in 
the  opposite  direction  at  the  moment  of  that 
auspicious  event,  and  it  was  only  by  accident  that 
he  caught  sight  of  his  former  patron.  The  Beau 
was  returning  to  Leleux's  on  his  return  from  the 
walk,  when  he  found  himself  hindered  by  the 
crowd  which  lined  the  street,  and  could  only 
cross  over  to  gain  his  rooms  just  as  the  royal 

U    2  307 


IN  THE  DAYS   OF  THE   GEORGES 

carriage  was  approaching.  The  spectacle  of  the 
well-dressed  Englishman  making  his  way  in  front 
of  the  approaching  procession  attracted  the  notice 
of  all.  "Good  God,  there's  Brummell !  "  ex- 
claimed the  King  to  one  of  his  suite,  as  the  Beau, 
pale  as  death,  brushed  past  Leleux  at  his  door 
without  a  word,  and  disappeared  into  his  room. 
There  seemed  some  little  pathos  in  Brummell's 
sending  old  Maraschino  to  the  hotel  in  order  that 
his  Majesty's  punch  should  not  lack  a  necessary 
ingredient.  So,  too,  when  that  potentate  asked 
for  snuff  after  his  dinner,  and  M.  le  Maire  found 
himself  wanting  in  that  luxury,  it  was  to  Brum- 
mell that  a  messenger  was  sent  off  hot-foot,  and 
the  contents  of  the  Beau's  box  which  regaled  the 
royal  nose.  "  Ah,"  said  his  Majesty,  after  a  pinch, 
sc  I  know  only  one  man  who  can  mix  snuff  like 
that."  On  the  morrow  some  of  the  suite  called 
on  Brummell,  and  advised  him  to  seek  an  inter- 
view with  the  outraged  Majesty;  it  is  possible 
that  they  knew  the  royal  mind  at  the  moment,  and 
that  with  the  Beau's  submission  there  were  hopes 
of  a  return  of  favour.  But  it  was  all  in  vain ;  the 
Beau  would  not  humble  himself ;  the  King  rolled 
on  to  Hanover  without  the  refreshing  bounty 
which  might  have  followed  the  Beau's  unbending, 
and  of  which  that  unfortunate  stood  so  sorely  in 
need,  and  the  last  word  was  said  in  the  matter 
when  his  Majesty  remarked,  upon  quittingthe  town, 
"  I  leave  Calais,  and  have  not  seen  Brummell." 

308 


THE   INCOMPARABLE   BRUMMELL 

There  had  long  been  a  movement  among  the 
best  and  most  discriminating  of  Brummell's 
friends  to  get  for  him  some  official  post  abroad, 
such  as  a  consulship  in  one  of  the  more  important 
towns.  Leghorn  was  mentioned,  and  it  is  prob- 
able that  he  might  have  obtained  that  at  Calais, 
only  that  Mr.  Marshall,  its  holder,  as  was  said, 
"persisted  in  living."  But  the  failure  of  Brum- 
mell  to  come  to  a  reconciliation  with  the  King  was 
regarded  by  those  friends  as  a  sign  that  it  would 
be  useless  to  push  his  interest  during  his  Majesty's 
lifetime;  Mr.  Canning,  indeed,  refused  to  recom- 
mend him  even  upon  the  solicitation  of  the  Duke 
of  York.  None  the  less,  a  move  was  made  upon 
the  Duke  of  Wellington's  ministry  coming  into 
office  in  1828,  and  Brummell  was  appointed  as 
Consul  of  Lower  Brittany,  with  head-quarters  at 
Caen,  at  a  salary  of  ,£400  a  year. 

There  was  now  a  difficulty  in  his  leaving  Calais, 
where  he  was  in  pawn,  so  to  speak.  His  debts 
at  this  time  were  never  accurately  stated,  but  they 
may  perhaps  be  estimated  by  the  fact  that  he  owed 
his  valet  £250.  He  had  a  large  overdraft  at  his 
banker's,  M.  Leveux,  who  advanced  another  ^500 
to  enable  him  to  quit  the  town.  But  to  meet  his 
responsibility  to  that  gentleman,  the  Beau  was 
forced  to  mortgage  £320  a  year  of  his  future 
salary  of  £400.  His  general  attitude  towards  his 
liabilities  is  perhaps  indicated  by  his  last  act  on 
leaving  Calais;  he  took  the  occasion  to  order  a 

309 


IN   THE   DAYS   OF   THE   GEORGES 

new  snuffbox  at  Dabert's,  a  mere  trifle,  however, 
costing  only  £100. 

It  is  a  dreary  and  unprofitable  task  to  watch  the 
Beau  through  the  last  phase  of  his  career,  that 
miserable,  useless  life  at  Caen,  in  which,  how- 
ever, his  true  character,  perhaps,  best  appears. 
At  the  outset  he  committed  an  act  of  incredible 
folly  by  writing  to  Lord  Palmerston  an  official 
memorandum  to  the  effect  that  his  office  was  a 
sinecure,  and  should  be  abolished,  or  reduced  to  a 
scale  capable  of  management  by  a  vice-consul. 
The  Foreign  Minister,  at  a  period  of  popular  agi- 
tation for  retrenchment,  was  obliged  to  act  upon 
this  report,  accepted  Brummell's  resignation,  and 
established  a  local  grocer,  an  Englishman  named 
Armstrong,  as  vice-consul  at  a  small  salary.  No 
one  has  ever  fathomed  the  Beau's  motives  in  this 
astonishing  proceeding.  Some  thought  he  hoped 
to  force  the  government  to  find  him  a  better  post 
elsewhere;  others  that  he  was  moved  by  pique 
against  the  mortgagees  of  his  salary.  It  was  in 
all  the  circumstances  an  act  of  deliberate  dis- 
honesty, and  BrummeH's  delicacy  in  accepting 
a  few  hundred  pounds  of  public  money  for  an 
easy  post  when  he  had  been  living  on  charity  for 
years  deceived  no  one. 

Meanwhile  he  set  up  as  a  leader  of  fashion  at 
Caen  with  all  his  old  insolence;  would  have 
nothing  to  do  with  the  prefects  and  local  officials 
of  the  new  regime  of  Louis  Philippe,  whom  he 

310 


THE   INCOMPARABLE   BRUMMELL 

was  accustomed  to  speak  of  as  "the  Duke  of 
Orleans,"  and  confined  his  patronage  to  the 
old  Legitimist  families  of  the  neighbourhood, 
who,  to  be  sure,  were  exceedingly  kind  to  him, 
and  were  often  repaid  by  his  customary  rude- 
ness. One  of  these  gentlemen  gave  a  dinner 
in  his  honour,  a  feast  of  turtle,  ortolans,  Rouen 
salmon,  and  the  like.  Some  one  next  morning 
asked  Brummell  how  it  had  gone  off.  "  Don't  ask 
me,  my  good  fellow,"  he  replied,  "  but,  poor  man, 
he  did  his  best."  An  English  lady,  seeing  him 
pass,  invited  him  from  her  balcony  to  "  take  tea." 
"  Madam,"  he  replied,  "you  take  medicine,  take  a 
walk,  take  a  liberty,  but  you  drink  tea."  But  his 
career  was  coming  to  an  end,  financially,  socially 
and  physically.  His  jaunty  attitude  towards  his 
responsibilities  was  no  longer  tolerated  by  his 
creditors,  and  Mr.  Armstrong,  the  vice-consul,  an 
energetic,  capable  man,  the  good  genius  of  all 
the  English  residing  in  that  part  of  France,  who 
had  been  installed  as  his  man  of  business,  could 
keep  them  no  longer  at  bay.  He  was  arrested  for 
debt,  and  for  a  time,  at  least,  was  forced  to  rub 
shoulders  with  a  set  of  unwashed  debtors  in  a 
common  room  of  the  prison,  at  which  his  gorge 
rose.  His  imprisonment  was  the  signal  for  re- 
newed begging  in  England,  and  renewed  bene- 
factions from  his  friends.  The  indefatigable 
Armstrong  obtained  the  relaxation  of  the  prison 
discipline  in  Brummeirs  favour,  and  he  even  got 


IN   THE  DAYS   OF   THE   GEORGES 

two  quarts  of  milk  daily  for  his  bath,  and  dis- 
played his  silver  shaving  set  in  that  place  of 
durance.  He  grumbled  at  the  dinners  supplied 
by  Armstrong,  "and  the  prison  cats  grew  fat  on 
the  cutlets  he  threw  to  them,  oblivious  of  the 
hungry  mouths  of  the  prisoners  around  him."  At 
the  suggestion  of  Lord  Alvanley,  Armstrong 
started  on  a  begging  expedition  to  England,  and 
personally  canvassed  his  friends.  Meanwhile 
Lord  Granville,  at  Paris,  materially  softened 
BrummeH's  lot  in  prison  by  his  generosity.  The 
good  Armstrong  again  found  generous  help  with 
the  Beau's  friends,  those  same  good  Samaritans 
who  had  assisted  him  so  regularly  during  the 
previous  twenty  years.  Lastly  Lord  Palmerston 
found  means  of  applying  some  £200  from  a  public 
fund  to  Brummell's  needs,  and  the  list  was  graced 
by  a  donation  of  £100  from  King  William  the 
Fourth.  By  funds  thus  provided,  Armstrong  was 
able  to  make  some  compromise  with  the  creditors, 
and  Brummell  was  released.  He  appeared  the 
same  evening  at  a  soiree  given  by  one  of  the 
leaders  of  the  old  French  society  with  all  his  old 
engaging  swagger.  Upon  receiving  the  congratu- 
lations of  the  company,  he  replied  :  "  Je  puis  vous 
assurer  que  c'est  aujourdhui  le  plus  heureux  jour 
de  ma  vie,  car  je  suis  sorti  de  prison,  et  j'ai  mange 
de  saumon." 

Captain  Jesse,  who  afterwards  became  his  bio- 
grapher, made  a  pilgrimage  to  Caen  at  this  time 

312 


THE   INCOMPARABLE   BRUMMELL 

and  met  his  hero.  He  found  him  quite  unchanged 
by  adversity;  his  bow  varied  from  an  inclination 
of  forty-five  degrees  upward,  according  to  the  con- 
sideration he  thought  due  to  the  person  he  was 
good  enough  to  notice ;  his  black  pants,  buff  waist- 
coat, and  blue  coat  were  as  unexceptionable  as 
ever,  his  boots  were  blacked  over  the  soles,  his 
spittoon  was  of  silver;  "  one  cannot  spit  into  clay," 
he  explained  to  Jesse.  His  consumption  of  fine 
linen  was  on  the  old  scale,  he  still  aimed,  at  least, 
at  three  shirts  and  three  white  neckcloths  a  day : 
"An  elegant,"  he  said,  "requires  per  week  20 
shirts,  24  pocket  handkerchiefs,  9  or  10  pairs  of 
summer  trousers,  30  neck  handkerchiefs,  a  dozen 
waistcoats,  and  stockings  a  discretion."  No  wonder 
the  Beau's  laundress  remained  unpaid.  He 
strutted  about  gibing  and  sneering  at  every  one, 
a  sort  of  walking  lampoon.  At  the  same  time  he 
would  drink  champagne  with  any  stranger  he  met 
at  the  table  d'hote  of  the  Hotel  d'Angleterre  (he 
was  at  last  deposed  from  a  separate  establishment 
in  rooms  of  his  own),  and  would  contend  with  the 
other  guests  for  the  best  portions  of  the  chicken 
fricassee.  At  this  table  he  would  hector  and  lay 
down  the  law  and  fire  off  his  insolent  sallies  on 
his  betters.  He  was  asked  once  if  he  had  been  as 
intimate  with  King  William  the  Fourth  when 
Duke  of  Clarence  as  with  the  others  of  the  Royal 
Family.  "The  man  did  very  well,"  he  replied, 
"  to  walk  about  the  quarter-deck  crying  '  luff/  but 

313 


IN   THE   DAYS   OF   THE   GEORGES 

he  was  so  rough  and  uncivilized  that  I  was  obliged 
to  cut  him."  This  of  his  sovereign,  who  had  but 
lately  subscribed  £100  to  get  the  Beau  out  of 
prison.  What  could  man  or  angel  do  for  such  a 
creature  as  this? 

Certainly  poor  Armstrong  did  all  that  was  pos- 
sible, went  a  second  time  to  England  to  confer 
with  Lord  Alvanley  as  to  getting  some  fixed  in- 
come for  Brummell,  however  small.  It  was  pro- 
posed to  put  up  subscription  lists  at  White's  and 
Brooks's  to  raise  a  fund  for  the  broken  impostor. 
The  idea  was  rejected  as  to'o  humiliating,  though 
it  does  not  appear  that  Brummell  himself  made 
any  objection.  But  many  of  his  friends  were  now 
dead,  others  were  weary  of  twenty  years  of  im- 
portunity, accompanied,  as  it  was,  by  such  dis- 
honest extravagance;  others  still  had  forgotten 
him  after  he  had  left  Calais  for  the  seclusion  of 
Caen.  "  Hallo,  Brummell,"  said  one  of  these, 
who  happened  to  stray  to  the  old  town  and  en- 
countered the  Beau  in  the  street,  "we  all  heard 
you  were  dead."  "Mere  stock-jobbing,  my  dear 
fellow,  mere  stock-jobbing,"  he  replied,  with 
something  of*  his  old  humour.  But  by  incredible 
exertions  Armstrong  at  length  got  together  a  cer- 
tain annuity  of  £120  a  year  from  England,  and 
this  he  himself  dispensed,  setting  aside  £60  for 
board  and  lodging,  and  £60  for  wine  and  clothing. 
Here  again  it  was  hopeless  to  bring  the  Beau  to 
reason.  Armstrong  insisted  on  a  maximum  of  one 

314 


THE   INCOMPARABLE   BRUMMELL 

shirt  a  day  and  a  black  cravat  instead  of  a  white 
one,  and  was  obdurate  in  the  matter  of  brocaded 
dressing-gowns,  even  though  the  Beau  indignantly 
flung  one  of  cotton  out  of  the  window.  But  in 
other  matters  it  was  impossible  to  control  him. 
He  must  still  have  his  biscuits  de  Rheims  and  his 
Maraschino,  his  primrose  gloves,  oiled  wigs,  eau 
de  Cologne  and  vernis  de  Guiton  blacking  at  five 
francs  a  bottle,  and  for  these  necessities  he  in- 
curred debts  all  over  the  province.  Worst  of  all, 
to  Armstrong's  great  wrath,  he  began  speculating 
in  lottery  tickets. 

It  was,  perhaps,  a  merciful  dispensation  to  all 
concerned  when  repeated  attacks  of  paralysis  at 
length  left  Brummell  with  aa  impaired  reason; 
even  then  there  were  still  friendly  houses  open 
to  him  in  Caen,  so  tolerant  is  human  charity;  the 
kindly  French  gentlefolk  would  allow  the  old  man 
to  creep  to  their  firesides  and  fall  asleep,  to  be 
wakened  only  when  a  meal  was  ready.  But  those 
last  years  were  attended  by  incidents  of  which  it 
is  painful  even  to  think.  In  his  sitting-room  at 
the  hotel  the  stricken  Beau  would  hold  ghostly 
receptions  of  the  friends  of  his  prime,  would  rise 
to  receive  his  phantom  guests  with  the  courtly  bow 
of  his  prosperity,  chatter  with  each  until  he  heard 
the  next  announced,  or  until  the  "carriages  were 
called  at  ten."  Could  anything  surpass  this 
horror,  or  Nemesis  bring  a  more  fitting  retribution 
to  a  life  of  folly  ?  It  is  said  that  an  English  lady 

315 


IN  THE  DAYS   OF  THE   GEORGES 

who  had  known  him  happened  to  be  in  Caen  and 
saw  the  old  man  crossing  the  passage  at  the  hotel 
on  his  way  to  one  of  these  mournful  ceremonies. 
At  the  sight  of  the  afflicted  Brummell,  whom  she 
had  last  seen  as  the  elegant  autocrat  at  Almack's, 
she  burst  into  tears,  and  hurriedly  left  the  town 
and  the  horror  of  his  fall  behind  her. 

From  this  misery  Brummell  was  at  last  rescued 
by  death;  the  wants  of  his  last  two  years  tended 
by  the  pious  women  of  the  Hopital  du  Bon 
Sauveur,  where  he  died  on  the  3Oth  of  March 
1840.  His  grave  is  still  marked  by  a  plain  head- 
stone in  the  cemetery  at  Caen. 

So  ended  George  Bryan  Brummell,  and  charity 
itself  could  hardly  deny  that  it  was  a  fitting  close 
to  such  a  life  of  folly.  He  and  the  small  band 
who  shared  his  inspiration  represented  no  ideal 
except  the  establishment  of  a  narrow  social 
tyranny;  they  stood  aside  in  their  petty  seclusion 
blind  and  deaf  to  all  the  great  influences  which 
were  moulding  the  modern  world  as  we  know  it, 
and  lived  through  a  crisis  in  the  national  life  with- 
out leaving  a  trace  of  their  influence  upon  their 
times.  One  may  search  the  annals  of  those  days 
in  vain  to  find  a  man  of  real  eminence  among 
them,  and  it  is  surely  well  that  time  should  have 
exposed  their  pretentions,  and  estimated  their 
exact  importance.  Brummell  and  the  cult  he 
founded,  indeed,  have  evaporated  into  a  mere 
name.  There  is  not  even  an  adequate  portrait 

316 


THE   INCOMPARABLE  BRUMMELL 

to  show  us  the  bodily  presence  of  the  paragon 
who  so  fascinated  London  a  hundred  years  ago, 
and  his  only  memorial,  apart  from  the  record  of 
his  follies,  is  that  plain  headstone  in  Caen  ceme- 
tery which  some  kind  hand  still  keeps  piously  in 
repair. 


317 


INDEX 


ABBRCORN,  Earl  of,  125 

Addison,  17,  87,  88 

Almack's,  143,  159,  233  et  seq.,  287,  28 

316 
Alvanley,  Lord,  284,  285,  290,  303,  312 

melia,  Pri 

38,  47,  48 


284,  2 
s,  dau 


Amelia,  Princess,  daughter  of  George  II, 


Ancaster,  Duke  of,  178,  206 

Anglesey,  Lord,  264 

Anne,  Queen,  29,  30,  31,  33,  295 

Argyll,  Duke  of,  273,  303 

Aston,  Sir  Willoughby,  242 

Athemevm,  132-133 

Augusta  of  Saxe  Gotha,  wife  of  Frederick 

Prince  of  Wales,  61,  156,  165,  169,  176, 

J95 
Authentic  Record  of  tht  Court  of  Eng- 

land, 124,  127,  131 
Ayscough,  Dean,  92 

HARRINGTON,  Lord,  206 
Bathurst,  Lord  Chancellor,  209 
Beaufort,  Duke  of,  273 
Beckford,  William,  127,  132 
Bedford,  Duke  of,  264,  272 
Bellenden,  Mary,  34 
Bessborough,  Lord,  248 
Bolingbroke,  78 
Boscawen,  Lucy,  170 
Bristol,  Lady,  49 

-  ,  Lord,  48,  184,  187,  212 

Brooks's,  143,  230-247,  291  ;  foundation  of 
the  club,  295,  299,  314 

Brummell,  George  Bryan  ("Beau")  — 
origin,  253-258  ;  education,  258-260  ;  in- 
timacy with  the  Prince  Regent,  261-277  > 
his  taste  in  dress,  268-271  ;  his  influence 
on  society,  272-277  ;  rupture  with  the 
Prince  Regent,  277-294  ;  at  the  gaming- 
tables, 295-302  ;  his  fall  and  exile  in 
Calais,  302-307  ;  final  contact  with  George 
IV,  307-308  ;  last  days  and  death,  309- 
3'7 

-  ,  William,  father  of  "  Beau,"  256-258 
Brunswicks,  family  strife  of,  19,  26 
Buccleuch,  Duke  of,  234 

Bunbury,  Sir  Thomas  Charles,  151,  159, 

234,  247 

Burford,  Lord,  248 
Burgoyne,  General,  334 
Burnett,  Bishop,  17 
Busche,  Mme.  von,  23 
Bute,  Lord,  78,  92,  93,  150,  156,  169 
Byron,  Lord,  254,  266,  300 


CANNING,  309 

Carlisle,  Lord,  234,  238,  239,  241,  296 

Caroline  of  Ansbach,  Queen  of  George  II, 

i5-i8,_27,  28-41,  50-77 
,  Princess,  daughter  of  George  II,  62, 

7°,  73 
,  Queen  of  George  IV,  114-118,  124, 

253,  279 

,  daughter  of  George  IV,  26 

Cartaret,  71,  78,  147 
Charles  Edward  Stuart,  79 

VI  of  Austria,  16,  28 

Charlotte  of  Mecklenburg  Strelitz,  Queen 

of  George  III,  101,  115,  125,  126,  137, 

156-158,  162,  198,  210 
Chatham,  Earl  of.     See  Pitt,  William 
Chesterfield,  Lord,  53,  78,  290 
Cholmqndeley,  Lord,  234,  267 
Chudleigh,   Elizabeth  (Duchess  of   King- 
ston), 102  ;  the  story  of  her  astonishing 

career,  165-225 
Citizen,  95,  96,  98,  114 
Clarges,  Sir  Thomas,  234 
Clement  XIV,  Pope,  201,  216 
Clermont,  Lord,  234,  248 
Clinton,  Lady  Lucy,  146 
Combe,  William,  95,  98 
Crabbe,  274 

Craven,  Berkeley,  259,  266 
Croker,  John  Wilson,  51 
Cromartie,  Lord,  ^9 
"  Cumberland,  Princess  of"  (Mrs.  Serres), 

118  et  seq, 
,  Henry  Frederick,  Duke  of,  121,  122, 

13° 
,  William,  Duke  of,  45,  50-51,  54,  61, 

77>  .79 
Cunningham,  Alan,  100 


DAMER,  Colonel  Dawson,  273 
Darlington,  Countess  of  (Countess  Kiel- 

mansegge),  28,  33,  40 
Davies,  Scrope,  300-301 
Delamere,  Lord,  273 
De  la  Warr,  Lord,  63-64,  137 
Derby,  Lord,  234,  248 
Dettingen,  15.  79,  143 
Devonshire,  Duchess  of,  211,  273 
— ,  Duke  of,  146,  248 
Dodsley,  79 
Dorset,  Duke  of,  147 
Drogheda,  Lord,  248 
Duncannon,  Lord,  248 


318 


INDEX 


EGREMONT,  Lord,  231-232,  239,  249 
Ernest  Augustus,  first  Elector  of  Hanover 

(father  of  George  I),  19,  20,  27 
Enrol,  Ix>rd,  151 
Essex,  Lord,  73 
Esterhazy,  Prince,  267 

FIFE,  Lord,  267,  273 

'Fifteen,  The,  33 

Fitzherbert,  Mrs.,  95,  115;  Beau  Brum- 
mell  and,  271,  278-283 

Fitzpatrick,  Richard,  234,  236,  241,  242 

Foley,  Lord,  238,  248,  267,  296 

Foote,  Samuel,  207-208 

'Forty-five,  The,  78 

Fox,  Charles  James,  142,  144,  150,  151  ; 
the  story  of  his  gaming,  229-249,  257, 
258  ;  the  negligence  of  his  dress,  269 

,  Henry,  69,  142,  I44,  145-159 

,  Sir  Stephen,  69,  144,  234,  238 

Franklin,  Benjamin,  217 

Frederick  the  Great  of  Prussia,  38,  47,  84, 
190,  218,  221,  224 

Wilhelm  of  Prussia,  brother-in-law  of 

George  II,  14)  38,  45-48,  54 

Louis,  Prince  of  Wales,  birth  and 

childhood,  13-19,  29-37  >  his  place  in  the 
Double  Marriage  project,  37-48  ;  comes 
to  England  and  is  created  Prince  of 
Wales,  48-52 ;  feud  with  his  father, 
George  II,  52-82 ;  marriage,  63-65 ; 
death  and  character,  81-83,  *&>  169, 
i?6,  195 

GAINSBOROUGH,  137,  143 

George  I,  13,  19-25,  27,  49 

II,  ii ; character, etc.,  13-26 ;  marriage 

with  Caroline  of  Ansbach,  15-18,  28-29  ; 
strife  with  George  I,  31-36 ;  attitude 
towards  the  Double  Marriage  with 
Prussia,  40-^8 ;  feud  with  his  son, 
Frederick  Prince  of  Wales,  48-82 ;  his 
opinion  of  George  III,  93  ;  relations  with 
Lady  Sarah  Lennox,  141,  148-149  ; 
relations  with  Elizabeth  Chudleigh, 
180-182 

Ill,  82  ;  youth,  89-95  >  legendary 

intrigue  with  Hannah  Lightfoot,  the 
"  Elusive  Quakeress,"  89-137  ;  romantic 
attachment  to  Lady  Sarah  Lennox, 
149-162 ;  cordiality  towards  Elizabeth 
Chudleigh,  183,  188,  198,  295 

IV,  26,  94,  128  ;  the  story  of  his  re- 
lations with  Beau  Brummell,  253-302 

Gibbon,  Edmund,  237 

Gordon,  Lord  George,  257 

Grafton,  Duke  of,  73,  146 

Granby,  Lord,  215 

Grosvenor,  General,  273 

Gunning,  Elizabeth,  Duchess  of  Hamilton, 
15°,  157.  178 

HAMILTON,  Duke  of,  170,  176,  178 

,  Lady  Anne,  124 

,  Lady  Archibald,  83 

,  Lady  Elizabeth,  170 

Handel,  59 

Harcourt,  Lord,  125,  156 

Hardwicke,  Lord  Chancellor,  50 


Hayter,  Dr.,  Bishop  of  Norwich,  92 
Hertford,  Lady,  267 

,  Lord,  208,  273 

Heryey,     Augustus     John,     husband     of 

Elizabeth  Chudleigh,  171  et  seq. 
,  Lord,  12,  48-50,  54-78,  83,  142,  169, 

171 

Hoadley,  Bishop,  62 
Holland,  Lord,  230-232,  237,  238,  247 
Hotham,  Sir  Charles,  43-44 
Howard,  Mrs.,  34 
Howe,  Lord,  170 
Hume,  Joseph,  123 

ILCHKSTER,  Lord,  144,  157 

JACOBITES,  12,  33,  69,  158 

James  I,  28,  29 

Jersey,  Lady,  her  relations  with  the  Prince 
Regent,  267,  278-281,  291 

,  Lord,  264 

Jesse,  Captain,  biographer  of  Beau  Brum- 
mell, 312-313 

,  John  Heneage,  132-137 

Johnson,  Dr.,  98,  207 

Junzus,  121,  127 

KENDAL,  Duchess  of  (Melusina  Schulem- 

berg),  23,  28,  40,  53 
Kent,  Duke  of,  129 
Kerr,  Lord  Chas.,  263 
Kielmansegge,  Countess.    See  Darlington 

Countess  of 
Kildare,  Lady,  148 
Kingston,  Duke  of,  186  et  seq. 
Komgsmark,  Count  Philip,  21-25,  27 

LAUZUN,  Due  de,  248 

Lawson,  Miss,  maid  of  honour  to  Augusta, 

Princess  of  Wales,  170 
Lennox,  Lady  Caroline,  145,  147-155 
,    Lady    Sarah,    her    romance    with 

George  III,  141-161 ;  first  and  second 

marriages,  159-162 
Lepel,  Mary,  Lady  Harvey,  55 
Lightfoot,  Hannah,  legendary  intrigue  of 

George  III  with,  89,  et  seq. 
Liverpool,  Earl  of,  256 
Louis  of  France,  215 
Philippe,  310 

MACDONALD,  Flora,  79 
Manners,  Lord  Charles,  263 

,  Lord  Robert,  263 

March,  Lord,  234 
Mariborough,  14 

,  Duchess  of,  58 

Middlesex,  Lady,  83 
Mildmay,  Sir  H.,  285-286 
Monson,  Lord,  248,  255 
Montagu,  Mrs.,  181 

,  Lady  Mary  Wortley,  48,  172 

Monthly  Magazine,  100,  102, 104, 106, 108, 

112,  114,  117,  124,  126,  132 
More,  Hannah,  210-211 
Mountstuart,  Lord,  206 
Murray,  Lord  Mansfield,  142,  206,  214 

NAPIER,  Hon.  Geo.,  159 


319 


INDEX 


Napoleon  Bonaparte,  254,  302 
JVew  Monthly  Magazine,  127 
Newbottle,  Lord,  151,  153,  154-155 
Newcastle,  Duke  of,  35,  36,  53,  147,  206, 

213,  256 

Noel,  Sir  Gerald,  123,  128 
Norfolk,  Duchess  of,  79 

,  Duke  of,  269 

North,  Lord,  82,  92 
Notes  and  Queries,  132 

ORLEANS,  Duke  of,  248 
Osnaburgh,  Bishop  of,  35,  52,  53 
Ossory,  Lord  Upper,  234 
Oudenarde,  15 

PALMERSTON,  Lord,  310,  312 
Peel,  Sir  Robert,  123 
Pelham,  143,  145 
Petersham,  Lord,  263,  267,  273 
Pigott,  Admiral,  234,  248 
Piozzi.  Mrs.  (Mrs.  Thrale),  98,  99,  ico 
Pitt,  William,  Earl  of  Chatham,  61,  65, 
71,  123,  126,  127,  129,  130,  133,  142,  172 

,  William,  143,  177,  273 

Platen,  Countess,  20-25,  28 

Portland,  Duke  of,  206 

"  Pouting  Place  of  Princes,"  35,  76 

Pulteney,  William,  71,  78,  142,  168-169,  206 

RADZIVIL,  Prince,  222-224 

Raikes,  Thomas,  266,  275,  276,  293,  301 

Reynolds,  Sir  Joshua,  99,  137,   138,    143, 

150,  165-167 
Rich,  the  actor,  81 
Richmond,  Duke  of,  143 
Rockingham,  Lord,  245 
Rodney,  Admiral,  234,  236 
Romney,  143 
Rowlandson,  Thomas,  95 
Royal  Register,  96 
Rumbold,  Thomas,  99 
Rutland,  Duke  of,  272,  274 

SALISBURY,  Marchioness  of,  261 

Scarborough,  Lord.  60 

Schulemberg,     Melusina.      Set     Kendal, 

Duchess  of 
Scott,  General,  234 
Sefton,  Lord,  303 
Selwyn,  Miss  Albina,  170 
,    George,    158,    234,   236,    238,    239, 

„  241,  243.  344  34.5,  246,  347 

berres,  Mrs.  Olivia,  119 

Sheridan,  R.  B.,  257,  258 

,  Tom,  297-298 

Somerset,  Lord  R.,  263 

Sonsfield,  Fraulein,  44 

Sophia,  Klectress  of  Hanover  (grand- 
daughter of  James  I),  16,  27,  28,  29,  34 

,  Queen  of  Prussia,  ao,  26,  38,  41-44 

Charlotte,  Electres*  of  Hanover,  16, 

27 


Sophia  Dorothea  of  Zell,  wife  of  George  I, 

20-27 

Spectator,  87-88 
Spencer,  Lady  Diana,  58 

,  Lord  Edward,  241 

,  Lord  Robert,  241,  242,  244,  247 

Stafford,  Lord,  187 
Stavordale,  Lord,  234 
"Stephan,  Prince,"  220-221 
Strangways,  Lady  Susan,  150,  151,  152 
Suffolk,  Lady,  36 

THANET,  Lord,  248,  296 
Thoms,  Mr.,  132-137 
Thomson,  James,  79,  80 
Thrale,  Mrs.,  98,  99,  100 
Thynne,  Thomas,  murder  of,  21 
Tierney,  George,  161 

UPTON,  General  Sir  Arthur,  286 

VANE,  Miss,  56 
Victoria,  Queen,  117,  128 

WAGER,  Sir  Charles,  67 

Wake,  Archbishop,  52,  74 

Waldegrave,  Lord,  92,  93 

Walmoden,  Madame  de,  61,  65,  67,  82, 149 

Walpole,  Horace,  12,  50,  51,  64,  77,  79,  83, 
94,  146,  150,  151,  155,  169,  175,  182-183, 
187,  189,  200,  211,  236,  237,  238 

,  Sir  Robert,  12,  18,  50,  52,  54,  56,  60, 

69,  71-72,  78,  142,  147,  168,  197 

Warwick,  Earl  of,  122,  129 

Wattier's,  293,  295  ;  foundation  of  the 
club,  296,  297 

Wedderburn,  142 

Wellington,  Duke  of,  128,  309 

Westmorland,  Lord,  158 

Weymouth,  Lord,  69,  113 

Whitbread,  Alderman,  and  Beau  Brum- 
mell,  291 

White's,  143,  159,  237,  243, 293  ;  foundation 
of  the  club,  295,  298,  314 

Wilhelmina  of  Prussia,  38-39,  40,  41,  42, 
43,  44,  48 

William  IV  and  Beau  Brummell,  312, 
313-314 

Wilmot,  Dr.  James,  118,  ttseg. 

Wilton,  Lord,  267 

Winchester,  Bishop  of,  and  Beau  Brum- 
mell, 290 

Wolfenbuttel,  Duke  of,  24,  53 

Worcester,  Lord,  303 

Wraxall,  Sir  Nathaniel,  97,  99,  100,  142 

Wynn,  Sir  Watkin,  273 

YARMOUTH,  Lord,  273 

York,  Edward,  Duke  of,  brother  of  George 

III,  93,  125,  126,  183 
,    Frederick,    Duke    of,    brother    of 

George  IV,  248,  267  283,  286-287 
,    Duchess  of,    her  favours  to    Beau 

Brummell,  288-289,  303,  306,  309 


Richard  Clay  &•  Sons,  Limited,  London  and  liunfay. 


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